ASQUES 

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EVANGELiNE  WiLBOUR  BLASHFIELD 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

BY 

EVANGELJNE    WILBOUR    BLASHFIELD 


A  SURPRISE  PARTY 
THE  LESSER  EVIL 
THE  HONOR  of  the  CREQUY 
IN  CLEON'S  GARDEN 


ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 
EDWIN    ROWLAND    BLASHFIELD 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES     SCRIBNER'S     SONS 
1901 


Copyright,  1901,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  November, 


Dramatic  and  all  other  rights  reserved 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS 


TO 

CHARLOTTE  B.  WILBOUR. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


1  MASQUES  OF  CUPID Frontispiece 

A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

2  A  SURPRISE  PARTY ,     .     .      .        Title 

FACING    PAGE 

3  DRAMATIS  PERSONJE I 

4  IT  is  A  SEVERE  MENTAL  STRAIN  TO  BE  PERFECTLY  FAIR  AND  TO 

DIVIDE  HONORS  IMPARTIALLY 12 

5  DEAR  ME  THIS  is    MATHEMATICS    AND  I  THOUGHT  IT  WAS  FUN  24 

6  THROUGH  WARDROBE  DOOR 36 

7  COME  DOWN-STAIRS  AND  HAVE  SOMETHING  .......  48 

8  THE  RABBIT  is  READY 60 

THE  LESSER   EVIL 

9  THE  LESSER  EVIL Title 

FACING    PAGE 

10  DRAMATIS  PERSONS 71 

1 1  SWORD  IN  HAND  STILL  THRUSTING   .      .        ^ 

>  Between  pages  7  8  and  79 

1 2  AGAINST  HIS  ASSAILANTS  DENIS  DE  BEAULIEU  ) 

13  I'LL  KNEEL  HERE  AS  THOUGH  I  WERE  AT  CONFESSION    ...      86 
H 


.  Between  pages  92  and  93 
15   KNEEL  FOR  AN  AVE'S  SPACE 


viii  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING    PAGE 

1 6  WHY  MARRY  HIM  OF  COURSE    .      .      .     .      .      .      ...     .      98 

17  FINIS  ET • Io6 

1 8  EXEUNT  OMNES       .      .      .      .      ,      .      .      .      .      .      .      .      ,.    .    112 

THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREOUY 

19  THE  HONOR  OF  THE   CREQUY Title 

FACING    PAGE 

20  DRAMATIS  PERSONS 1 1 5 

21  BY  THE  AFTERNOON  MAIL I3° 

22  WHAT  SHALL  I   Do  ? .      .      .      .  .144 

23  WERE  ALWAYS  DOING  THE  MOST  EXCITING  THINGS    .      .      .      .158 

24  OPENS  THE  WINDOW    .... J72 

25  YOUR  LOVER'S  LETTER      .      .  l86 

IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

26  IN   CLEON'S  GARDEN Title 

FACING    PAGE 

27  DRAMATIS  PERSONS 2O1 

28  THINK  OF  THAT 2°8 

29  THE  DOVE  THAT  FLEW  OVER  THE  WALL 216 

30  ALWAYS  GRIEVING 224 

31  MR.  TURTLE  STAYS  AT  HOME  Too 232 

32  THE  WATER-BEARERS 24° 

33  PARTHENIS 248 

34  CLEA 256 

35  TAKE  YOUR  SON ..........    264 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 


LPP 


- 


L 


GEORGE  CARRINGTON,  a  banker. 

ALBERT  FIELDING,  an  enterprising  business  man. 

JOE  MITCHELL,  on  the  Street. 

TOM  CAREY,  a  graduate  of  the  Harvard  Law  School. 

DODO  FIELDING,  wife  of  Albert. 

POLLY  FIELDING,  unmarried  sister  of  Albert. 

Time,  to-day.     Place,  New  York  City 


A  SURPRISE  PARTY 


Scene 

A  bedroom.  Gas  turned  down.  Foils,  masks,  boxing- 
gloves,  crops,  and  photographs  of  actresses  on  the  walls.  Left, 
a  French  window;  centre,  a  door;  right,  a  small  bed  and  a 
wardrobe.  Left  centre,  a  toilet-table  with  chair  before  it. 
Right  centre,  an  arm-chair.  Enter  from  door  centre  DODO 
and  POLLY  in  ball  costume. 

POLLY 

Oh!  Dodo,  wasn't  it  a  glorious  dance!  Do  you  suppose 
they'll  all  be  like  this  one? 

DODO,  turning  up  the  gas  and  going  to  the  toilet-table 
No,  they  will  not. 

POLLY,  seating  herself  in  the  arm-chair 
Why? 

DODO,  removing  her  opera-cloak 

Because  you  can't  always  be  just  eighteen,  and  the  others 
will  not  be  your  first  balls.  And  then  things  will  grow  com 
plicated. 

POLLY 

How?     Do  tell  me. 

3 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DODO,  going  to  the  window 

Ugh!  this  room  smells  of  tobacco-smoke.  Do  you  mind  if 
I  open  the  window  ?  ( Turning  and  seeing  POLLY  comfortably 
settled  in  the  arm-chair. )  You  little  wretch !  you're  going 
to  stay  for  a  gossip,  and  you  mustn't  take  cold.  (Goes  back 
to  toilet-table  and  sits  down. )  What  a  bad  glass ! 


POLLY 

You  won't  find  it  luxurious  here,  camping  out  in  brother 
Harry's  quarters. 

DODO 

It's  more  luxurious  than  the  prospect  of  turning  out  of 
my  own  room  at  seven  o'clock  for  the  man  who  is  coming 
to  take  up  the  carpet.  Here,  in  this  hermitage  at  the  top  of 
the  house,  I  can  sleep  late  undisturbed  and  dream  of  your 
triumphs. 

POLLY,  making  a  military  salute 

I  feel  like  a  recruit  who  is  praised  by  a  veteran;  but  my 
success  is  all  due  to  your  manoeuvres. 


DODO,  taking  off  her  gloves  and  putting  a  silk  bag, 
containing  keys,  tablets,  etc.,  on  the  table 

Fve  had  experience  enough  to  give  you  a  fair  start.  I 
didn't  introduce  you  to  any  intellectuals,  or  to  any  men  who 
understand  only  the  theory  of  waltzing,  did  I?  Generally,  I 

4 


A    SURPRISE    PARTY 

hate  chaperoning  girls,  because  they  always  want  to  go  home 
before  I  do.  Apropos  of  girls,  did  you  see  that  odious  Minnie 
Anderson  whom  Harry  is  so  crazy  about?  No?  I  wish  that 
he  had  been  there  with  us.  She  was  flirting  vigorously 
with  Dr.  What's-his-name,  and  looked  very  plain  in  an  unbe 
coming  gown.  Dear  Harry!  how  he  would  have  enjoyed 
himself !  Well,  all  is  for  the  best,  for  if  he  were  here  instead 
of  lobbying  in  Washington,  I  couldn't  borrow  his  room  for 
to-night. 


POLLY,  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  thoughtfully 

Dodo,  what  was  that  you  said  about  things  growing  com 
plicated  at  balls? 

DODO,  impressively 

I  meant  that  when  you  are  really  launched  you  can't  enjoy 
yourself  in  a  simple,  natural  way;  you  have  lots  of  preoccu 
pations.  For  instance :  if  Arthur  takes  you  home  you  give 
Reginald  a  flower ;  if  you  sit  out  a  waltz  with  Bobbie,  you  must 
sup  with  Charlie,  and  if  you  dance  too  often  with  Tom,  there's 
trouble  with  Dick.  It's  a  severe  mental  strain  to  be  perfectly 
fair  and  to  divide  honors  impartially.  And  then  men  say 
that  we  have  no  sense  of  justice ! 


POLLY,  sighing 

Dear  me!  This  is  mathematics,  and  I  thought  it  was  fun. 
(Hopefully.)  But  then  it  won't  be  so  hard  for  me,  as  I  shall 
not  be  as  popular  as  you  are,  Dodo. 

5 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DODO,  rising 

You  are  an  angel — butterfly!  (Crosses  to  right;  kisses 
POLLY.)  Now  flit,  fold  your  wings  and  go  to  sleep.  Off  with 
you! 

POLLY,  rising 

Please,  please,  just  five  minutes  longer.  Besides,  I  must 
tell  you  the  adventure  I  had  on  the  way  to  the  ball,  and  I 
want  to  know  what  it  was  you  said  to  Madame  Lepic,  and — 
I'm  so  hungry ! 

DODO 

You  shall  tell  me  your  adventure  later.  First,  let  us  go 
down  to  the  kitchen  and  forage.  (Stopping  and  shuddering.) 
Oh!  Polly,  if  there  should  be  cockroaches  down  there! 

POLLY 

Never  mind;  I'm  not  very  much  afraid  of  them.  It's  said 
that  if  you  don't  run  away,  they  will. 

DODO 

I  never  had  the  courage  to  make  the  experiment.  I  love 
animals,  but  I  cannot  extend  my  affection  beyond  quadru 
peds.  Too  many  legs  spoil  the — 

POLLY 

Don't  begin  to  generalize  before  you  tell  me  about  Madame 
Lepic. 

6 


A    SURPRISE    PARTY 


DODO 

There's  really  nothing  to  tell.  The  horrid,  old  thing  thinks 
she  can  insult  us  with  impunity  so  long  as  she  does  it  in 
broken  English.  She  met  me  in  the  hall,  and,  after  she  had 
appraised  me  with  a  look,  said,  before  everybody:  "Ctiere 
madame,  how  fine  you  are  zis  evening!  Will  you  permit  one 
little  critique?  Is  not  your  charming  gown  too  young?" 
Naturally,  I  feebly  defended  myself:  "Dear  madame,  how 
kind  of  you  to  give  me  the  benefit  of  your  experience!  Will 
you  permit  me,  in  my  turn,  one  little  critique?  In  English  we 
say  a  new  gown,  not  a  young  gown.  I've  always  admired 
that  gray  one  of  yours.  How  pretty  and  durable  it  is! 
Thanks  so  much!  Au  revoir"  That  was  all. 


POLLY 

Chere  madame,  will  you  permit  me,  in  my  turn,  one  little 
critique  ? 

DODO 
Two,  if  you  like. 

POLLY 

Was  it  worth  while  to  answer  her  at  all  ?     It  isn't  like  you 
to  be  spiteful. 

DODO 

Right,  as  usual,  little  mentor!     Killing  flies  is  a  poor  busi 
ness.     But  I  was  cross.     I  hadn't  heard  from  Albert  for  three 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

days.  If  he's  not  going  to  find  time  even  to  write  to  me,  I 
might  as  well  not  be  married  at  all.  He's  always  travelling, 
always  working,  always  starting  some  grand,  new  scheme, 
and  never  has  a  moment  for  me.  He's  an  unknown  quantity 
to  most  of  my  friends,  and  if  he  were  not  the  kindest,  dearest, 
most  generous  of  men,  he  would  be  perfectly  unbearable. 


POLLY 

I  cannot  hear  him  vilified !  Faint  with  hunger  as  I  am,  I 
must  defend  a  brother's  cause.  You  will  admit  that  he  allows 
you  to  go  about  with  any  quantity  of  other  men  and  to  flirt 
ad  libitum. 

DODO 

That's  because  he  has  such  absolute  confidence  in  my  discre 
tion.  Ouf !  I'm  hungry,  too.  Talking  hollows  one.  Bring 
the  matches,  and  we'll  eat  up  to-morrow's  luncheon. 


POLLY,  taking  match-box  from  table 
You  haven't  shown  any  curiosity  about  my  adventure. 


DODO 

At  eighteen  every  incident  is  called  by  that  name.  I'll 
wager  that  it  was  a  most  commonplace  occurrence.  (Opens 
window  on  left.)  While  we  are  carousing,  let's  hope  this 
smell  of  tobacco  will  go  out  the  window. 

8 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

POLLY 

And  nothing  worse  come  in. 

(Exeunt) 

Enter  by  open  window,  with  many  precautions,  GEORGE 
CARRINGTON.  Evening  dress,  boutonniere,  Pierrot  costume 
over  his  arm. 

GEORGE 

I  beg  your  pardon.  Please  don't  be  alarmed.  I'm  not  a 
burglar  and  I'm  not  intoxicated.  I'm  the  victim  of  a  witless 
practical  joke,  and —  (Looking  around.)  There's  nobody 
here.  I'm  in  luck.  I  hope  I  don't  look  as  much  like  a 
thief  as  I  feel  at  the  present  moment.  Well,  at  any  rate  I'm 
not  freezing  to  death  on  an  icy  roof,  with  pneumonia  star 
ing  me  in  the  face.  What  fools  boys  are!  Was  I  as  silly 
only  five  years  ago?  I  don't  believe  even  then  I  would  have 
thought  it  funny  to  lock  a  fellow  out  on  a  cold  night  with 
out  an  overcoat.  Now,  how  am  I  to  get  out  of  this?  To 
begin  with,  where  am  I?  (Walks  about  the  room.)  Top 
floor  of  a  private  house,  evidently;  probably  close  to  the  ser 
vants'  quarters,  who  will  howl  if  they  discover  me,  and  be  too 
scared  to  listen  to  reason.  Man's  room,  I  devoutly  hope. 
(Throws  Pierrot  costume  on  the  foot  of  the  bed.)  Looks 
like  a  bachelor's.  However,  nowadays  one  never  can  tell. 
(Examining  walls.)  Sporty,  rather;  but  then  the  new  woman 
is  inclined  that  way.  (Picks  up  cigarette-case  on  the  toilet- 
table.)  Doesn't  prove  anything  either,  nowadays.  Might 
just  as  well  be  a  girl's.  (Takes  up  a  silver  pocket  ilask.) 
Empty.  (Examines  a  revolver.)  I  should  call  this  fine, 

9 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

rather  than  superfine.  I'd  like  to  borrow  it  informally,  in 
case  my  motives  in  entering  the  house  should  be  misunder 
stood.  But  that's  out  of  the  question.  I  might  as  well  empty 
it,  though.  Dangerous,  this  leaving  loaded  weapons  about. 
(Empties  the  revolver  and  replaces  it.)  Br-r-r.  (Shivers.) 
Wish  that  I  could  do  as  much  with  this.  ( Touching  the  flask. ) 
Now,  what's  to  be  done?  I  must  settle  on  some  plan  of 
campaign.  I  thought  I  was  in  luck  when  I  saw  that  open 
French  window  and  swung  myself  down  by  it  off  that  arctic 
roof ;  but  now  that  I  am  in,  the  question  is  how  am  I  to  get  out 
again.  Shall  I  rouse  the  house?  That  proceeding  seems 
awkward,  and  might  lead  to  complications.  Shall  I  wait  here 
until  some  one  comes  in?  That's  supine,  and  it  might  be  a 
woman,  who  would  faint  before  I  could  explain.  Napoleonic 
tactics  are  the  best.  I  must  get  there  before  the  enemy.  I'll 
go  quietly  down-stairs,  try  the  front  door,  which  I  shall  prob 
ably  be  able  to  open  from  the  inside;  if  not,  then  there  remain 
the  basement  door  and  the  back  yard.  It  isn't  difficult  to 
get  out  of  a  house.  I  believe  there  are  the  makings  of  a 
strategist  in  me,  after  all.  (Goes  confidently  out  by  door  cen 
tre  and  returns  hastily.)  There  are  voices — girls'  voices — in 
the  hall.  (Listening  at  door  centre.)  They  are  coming  up 
stairs.  They  ought  to  be  in  bed  at  this  hour,  anyhow. 
Women  have  no  business  to  be  so  dissipated.  They  are  com 
ing  here — to  this  room.  I  can't  stay  here.  They'll  be  sure  to 
have  hysterics,  and  ring  the  burglar-alarm  before  I  can  say 
a  word.  What  am  I  going  to  do?  (Looks  under  bed.)  Too 
low.  (Looks  out  of  window.)  Too  high.  Ah,  here! 
( Opens  wardrobe  door,  enters  it,  and  continues  speaking  from 
the  inside.)  I'll  wrait  until  an  opportune  moment,  and  then — 
be  guided  by  circumstances. 

10 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 
Enter  DODO  and  POLLY 

POLLY 

I  am  going  to  bed  in  a  moment.  Are  you  sure  that  you 
won't  be  lonesome  here? 

DODO,  shutting  the  window 

No  such  luck,  with  the  maids  at  one  end  of  the  hall  and 
Symonds  at  the  other. 

GEORGE,  aside,  from  wardrobe 
Mv  worst  fears  are  realized! 

•/ 

POLLY 

And  you're  not  afraid  of  burglars?  I've  always  thought 
that  we  had  provided  an  easy  and  pleasant  entrance  for  them 
by  putting  those  French  windows  so  close  to  the  roof. 

GEORGE,  aside 

That  voice  sounds  strangely  familiar.  I  wish  I  could 
get  a  glimpse  of  its  proprietor. 

DODO 

Little  goose !  Fancy  a  girl  who  isn't  afraid  of  a  six-legged 
cockroach  being  frightened  at  a  mere  biped !  Why,  a  burglar 
is  only  a  man,  after  all. 

ii 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

GEORGE,  aside 

This  isn't  going  to  be  so  hard.  I'll  wait  until  the  cock- 
roach-queller  flits,  and  then  appear  to  the  sensible  young 
person. 

POLLY 

A  desperate  man  is  as  dangerous  as  any  insect.  Dodo,  have 
you  ever  thought  what  you  would  do  if  a  burglar  should  ap 
pear  ?  Now,  I  should  scream  with  all  my  might. 

GEORGE,  aside 
I  won't  make  my  debut  while  she  is  here. 


DODO 

That  would  be  foolish,  as  you  would  undoubtedly  be  shot 
or  stabbed.  What  would  /do?  I  have  had  half  a  dozen 
different  methods.  When  I  was  young  and  silly  and — eigh 
teen,  I  didn't  dare  to  look  under  the  bed  or  in  my  closet,  so 
I  used  to  shut  my  eyes  and  shout:  "Come  out,  you  burglar! 
Don't  linger;  you're  discovered!" 

POLLY 

What  a  heroic  system! 

DODO 

Wasn't  it?  Now  I  should  try  moral  suasion,  and  an  ap 
peal  to  the  self-interest  of  the  burglar. 

12 


\ 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

GEORGE,  aside 
Better  and  better;  this  is  growing  interesting. 

POLLY 
Explain,  for  that  sounds  contradictory. 

DODO 

I  should  first  beg  him  to  be  seated,  and  then  I  should  begin 
by  asking  him  a  few  questions  very  quietly  and  coolly. 

POLLY 

Ah !  I  see.  The  Socratic  method.  Do  you  think  he  would 
understand  it? 

DODO 

Certainly ;  many  burglars,  and  generally  the  most  desperate 
characters,  are  college  graduates. 

POLLY 

Which  proves  the  advantage  of  possessing  a  university  edu 
cation  in  any  walk  of  life.  Why  don't  they  mention  that  fact 
in  the  college  reports? 

DODO 

Don't  be  frivolous;  leave  that  to  your  elders.  Then  I 
should  proceed  to  practical  considerations,  and  demonstrate 

13 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

to  the  burglar  that  as  most  of  the  wedding  presents  are  stored 
at  Tiffany's,  and  as  we  never  keep  ready  money  in  the  house, 
it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  and  effort  for  him  to  pursue  his 
investigations  further. 

GEORGE,  aside 
What  an  admirable  mind  that  woman  has ! 

POLLY 

But  if  he  proved  deaf  to  the  voice  of  reason,  and  began  to 
confiscate  your  toilet  silver? 

DODO 

Then  I  should  scream. 

POLLY 

Then  your  method  ends  where  mine  begins.  Why  not 
scream  first  and  argue  afterwards?  Frankly,  I  like  my  way 
best. 

DODO 

But  as  men  are  wicked  only  through  ignorance,  one  ought 
to  try  moral  suasion  first;  it's  only  fair  to  the  burglar. 

GEORGE,  aside 

What  admirable  sentiments! 

14 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO 

Besides,  a  scream  is  the  last  argument  of  women. 

POLLY 
Is  it?     I  thought  tears — 

DODO 
The  new  woman  doesn't  cry.     It  makes  wrinkles. 

POLLY,  sadly 

All  these  things  are  so  difficult  to  live  up  to  I  almost  wish 
that  I  were  an  old  woman. 


DODO 

You'll  be  one  fast  enough  if  you  sit  up  all  night  gossiping. 
It  will  be  light  in  less  than  two  hours. 


POLLY 

But,  Dodo,  I'm  improving  my  mind.     Your  conversation  is 
so  instructive. 

DODO 

Sycophant,  away !     To  bed,  to  bed,  and  don't  dare  to  dream 
of  your  insignificant  adventure. 

15 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

POLLY,  rising 

No;  I'll  only  dream  of  my  knight-errant.  Good  night, 
lion-heart.  May  Heaven  be  kind  and  not  send  you  an  erudite 
burglar  on  whom  to  try  your  dialectics. 

DODO,  kissing  POLLY 

Good  night,  saucebox.  Do  you  know  I  think  the  nicest 
thing  Albert  has  ever  given  me  is  his  little  sister. 

POLLY,  going 
Not  his — yours,  Dodo.     Good  night. 

(Exit) 

DODO  sits  before  toilet-table  and  takes  the  flowers 
out  of  her  hair 

She's  a  dear.  The  only  in-law  relative  that  I  have.  What 
a  lucky  woman  I  am!  Young  and — not  hideous,  fairly  rich, 
and  so  happy!  I'm  afraid  something  is  going  to  happen.  It 
isn't  normal  to  have  as  good  a  time  as  I  have.  (Unfastens 
her  necklace. )  If  I  had  collar-bones  like  that  Anderson  girl's, 
I'd  wear  a  yoke. 

GEORGE,  aside 

I'll  make  my  appearance  before  the  despoiling  process  goes 
any  further.  (Opens  wardrobe  door  a  little  wider,  and 
shuts  it  as  DODO  screams.) 

16 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO,  with  a  start  and  stifled  shriek 

What's  that!  (Shivers,  rises  and  opens  centre  door.}  I 
thought  I  heard  something  move.  I'm  absurdly  nervous.  I'll 
call  Polly.  (Shuts  the  door.)  No,  I  won't  be  such  a  coward. 
And  how  she  would  tease  me!  (Returns  to  toilet-table,  sits 
before  it.)  Talking  about  burglars  has  made  me  feel  creepy. 
(Begins  to  take  doivn  her  hair,  and  puts  a  hairpin  in  her 
mouth.)  I  have  a  strange,  cold  feeling  in  my  back,  as  though 
there  were  some  one  behind  me.  How  silly  I  am !  Not  a  mouse 
could  hide  here.  The  bed's  too  low ;  there's  only  the  wardrobe 
to  explore,  and  of  course  there's  nobody  in  that.  (Takes  off 
her  rings.)  It's  a  mere  form,  but  I'd  better  look  in  it.  It's 
weak  of  me,  but  it  will  be  comforting  to  be  quite  sure.  (Rises, 
puts  her  hand  on  wardrobe  door.)  Why,  I'm  in  a  panic!  I 
don't  dare  to  open  it.  How  absurd !  I'll  try  my  old  formula. 
(Loudly.)  Come  out,  you  burglar!  Don't  linger;  you're  dis 
covered  ! 

GEORGE,  opening  the  wardrobe  door 

I  cannot  disobey  so  imperative  a  command.  (DODO  slowly 
sinks  to  her  knees  and  gasps.)  Pray  don't  be  frightened.  I 
am  not  what  I  seem.  Listen  to  me  just  a  moment.  (DODO 
sways  and  is  about  to  fall.  GEORGE  props  her  up  against  the 
arm-chair  and  looks  around.)  What  shall  I  do?  What  do 
they  give  women  when  they  faint?  Brandy.  There  isn't  any. 
I  remember — cologne  or  salts.  (Goes  to  toilet-table,  takes  up 
smelling-bottle,  sees  revolver.)  I'll  hide  this  before  she  rouses 
the  servants.  (Puts  smelling-bottle  in  his  pocket,  returns  to 
DODO,  and  presses  the  revolver  to  her  nose.)  This  will  re 
vive  you. 

17 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


DODO,  moaning 

Oh,  don't  disfigure  me!  Spare  everything  I  have,  and 
take  my  life — no,  I  don't  mean  that.  (Sinks  on  GEORGE'S 
shoulder. ) 

GEORGE,  aside 

What  an  ass  I  am!  (Throws  down  the  revolver  and  takes 
out  the  salts.)  There,  there,  my  dear  lady,  reassure  yourself. 
I  am  not  the  burglar  you  take  me  for. 


DODO,  opening  her  eyes 

No;  you're  one  of  the  Harvard  graduates — the  most  des 
perate  kind. 

GEORGE 
I  plead  guilty  to  that  charge,  but — 

DODO,  faintly  trying  to  rise 
Where's  my  voice?     I  can't  scream. 

GEORGE,  assisting  her 

Deeply  as  I  sympathize  with  you,  I  cannot  regret  it.  You 
mustn't  scream  yet;  you  haven't  argued  with  me,  or  asked 
me  any  questions.  Screaming  first  is  Miss  Polly's  method, 
not  yours. 

18 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO,  straightening  herself  up  with  feeble  indignation 

I  thought  you  were  only  a  burglar;  it  seems  that  you  are 
an  eavesdropper. 

GEORGE 

I  deny  the  first  charge,  and  plead  guilty  to  the  second  one. 
I  dropped  from  the  eaves  of  your  house  to  the  balcony,  found 
that  window  open,  and  entered  the  room,  hoping  to  leave  it 
without  alarming  any  one. 

DODO,  starting 
You  intended  to  chloroform  us? 

GEORGE 

This  is  maddening!  Look  at  me,  please.  Do  I  look  like 
a  criminal? 

DODO 

They're  sometimes  very  gentlemanly  in  appearance. 

GEORGE 

Many  thanks!  Will  you  listen  to  me  a  moment?  You 
will  be  perfectly  safe.  Have  you  a  bell  here  which  communi 
cates  with  your  servant's  room?  Yes?  Where  is  it? 

DODO 

There,  by  the  head  of  the  bed. 

19 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

GEORGE 

Please  put  your  hand  on  it  while  I  tell  you  my  story.  It 
won't  be  a  long  one.  (DODO  goes  to  the  head  of  the  bed  and 
puts  her  finger  on  the  electric  bell.)  Now  you're  not  afraid? 

DODO 
No,  not  much.     (Aside.)     He's  rather  nice. 

GEORGE 

Good.  I  want  to  explain  my  intrusion  on  your  privacy.  I 
was  supping,  after  the  Arion  ball,  in  the  rooms  of  a  man  who 
lives  in  the  apartment-house  a  few  doors  from  here. 

DODO 
I  know — the  Pandemonium. 

GEORGE 

Yes ;  a  nice,  quiet  house.  The  rooms  grew  very  hot,  and  to 
cool  our  heads  we  went  up  on  the  roof.  It  occurred  to  the 
other  men  that  it  would  be  amusing  to  rush  down  and  lock 
the  trap-door,  leaving  me  out  in  the  cold.  This  pleasantry 
was  accordingly  perpetrated,  and  in  twenty  minutes  I  was  so 
chilled  that  I  grew  desperate;  jumped  on  your  roof,  noticed 
the  balcony  running  along  the  front  of  the  house,  saw  that 
there  was  a  window  open  on  it,  and  swung  myself  down  by 
it  into  this  room.  I  thought  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to 

20 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

apologize  and  to  leave  the  house,  and  that  I  was  a  lucky  man 
to  have  escaped  pneumonia.  Now  I  realize  that  I  should  have 
remained  on  the  roof. 

DODO,  coming  towards  him 
Why? 

GEORGE 

Because  I  have  unfortunately  frightened  and  annoyed  you, 
and  I  cannot  forgive  myself  for  my  thoughtlessness. 

DODO 

But  I  can.  It  wasn't  your  fault.  It  was  I  who  was  silly. 
It  may  be  irrational  of  me,  but  I  believe  your  story  implicitly. 
You  must  be  chilled  through.  (Goes  to  toilet-table  and  takes 
up  flask. ) 

GEORGE 

It's  empty. 

DODO 

Ah! 

GEORGE 

I  didn't  empty  it,  though — worse  luck ! 

DODO,  noticing  the  revolver  on  the  floor 
Oh,  that's  dangerous! 

GEORGE,  picking  it  up  and  replacing  it  on  the  toilet-table 

That's  empty,  too.     I  did  empty  that. 

21 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DODO,  suspiciously 
Why? 

GEORGE 

Because  I  thought  it  prudent  to  do  so. 

DODO 
And  why  did  you  hide  when  we  came  in? 

GEORGE 

I  was  afraid  of  alarming  you,  and  did  it  impulsively,  with 
out  thinking.  I  intended  to  introduce  myself  at  an  opportune 
moment. 

DODO 

Concealment  is  always  a  mistake.     Are  you  still  cold? 

GEORGE 

Rather;  but  don't  mind  about  me. 

DODO 
You'll  be  ill  if  you  don't  have  something  hot. 

GEORGE 

No,  I  won't.  Never  mind  about  that.  The  kindest  thing 
you  can  do  is  to  get  me  out  of  the  house  as  soon  as  possible. 

22 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO 

But  you  have  no  overcoat,  and — 

GEORGE 

My  dear  lady,  can't  you  understand  that  I  ought  to  go 
immediately;  that  at  any  moment  your  maids  or  your  butler 
may  wake,  and  misconstrue  the  motive  of  my  presence  here? 

DODO 
Reassure  yourself.    I  will  explain  that  you  are  not  a  burglar. 

GEORGE,  aside 

She  is  very  disconcerting.  I  feel  like  a  prude,  and  the 
sensation  is  as  unpleasant  as  it  is  novel.  (Aloud.)  Please 
believe  that  I  appreciate  your  kindness,  but  you  must  know 
that  for  me  to  be  found  with  you  here,  at  this  hour,  alone, 
would  be  very  compromising. 

DODO 

Why,  of  course  it  would!  I  never  thought  of  that.  You 
must  go  at  once,  and  quietly.  Take  off  your  shoes. 

GEORGE 
Is  that  necessary? 

DODO 

Yes;  the  stairs  creak. 

23 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


GEORGE 


Anything  to  oblige  a  lady.  (Sits  in  arm-chair,  right  cen 
tre,  and  removes  his  shoes.) 

DODO 

How  unselfish  and  considerate  it  was  of  you  to  think  of 
the  proprieties  when  you  were  so  chilled  and  uncomfortable ! 
Wait  a  moment.  (GEORGE  rises,  shoes  in  hand.)  I'll  recon 
noitre  before  we  retreat. 

(Exit  by  centre  door) 

GEORGE 

What  a  dear  little  woman !  Taking  my  shoes  off  has  made 
me  feel  uncommonly  mean,  though.  I  wish  that  I  were  out 
of  this. 

DODO,  reentering 
There  is  some  one  on  the  stairs  coming  up.     Who  can  it  be  ? 

GEORGE 

The  devil ! — I  beg  your  pardon. 

DODO 

No ;  it  isn't.  It's  a  man.  It's  probably  Symonds,  our  but 
ler.  (Listening.)  He's  coming  here. 

24 


I     U  f  N 


A  SURPRISE   PARTY 

GEORGE 

What  does  he  want? 

DODO 
How  do  I  know? 

GEORGE 

He  mustn't  find  me  here.     Servants  have  such  evil  minds. 
I'll  go  out  on  the  balcony. 


DODO 

No;  you  shall  not.  You'll  die  of  cold  there.  (Knock  at 
the  door.)  Step  into  the  wardrobe.  (GEORGE  resists.)  Ah, 
do,  to  oblige  me.  It  will  only  be  for  a  moment.  (A  second 
knock.)  Hurry,  hurry!  (Pushes  GEORGE,  still  protesting, 
into  the  wardrobe.)  Coming!  (Shuts  wardrobe  door.) 
What  is  it,  Symonds?  (Opens  door  centre  and  screams.) 
Albert  Fielding!  What  are  you  doing  here? 


Enter  ALBERT,  in  overcoat  and  Derby  hat,  stick, 
umbrella,  and  portmanteau  in  his  hand 


ALBERT 

Trying  to  find  my  wife.  What  does  this  mean?  Why  are 
you  up  and  dressed  at  this  hour,  and  in  this  room?  What's 
the  matter?  Has  anything  happened ?  Why  are  you  so  pale ? 
Are  you  ill?  Say  something. 

25 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DODO,  irately 

111  ?  Of  course  I'm  ill !  You  have  frightened  me  to  death. 
I  thought  you  were  a  butler — a  burglar,  I  mean.  What  right 
have  you  to  come  home  so  unexpectedly,  after  not  writing  to 
me  for  three  days? 

ALBERT 

I  finished  my  business  sooner  than  I  had  expected,  and  took 
the  nine-o'clock  express,  thinking  I  would  surprise  you — and 
I  think  I  have. 

DODO 

You  ought  to  know  by  this  time  that  an  agreeable  surprise 
is  as  rare  as  a  black  swan.  Why  didn't  you  telegraph  ? 


ALBERT 

I  should  have  done  so  if  I  had  known  what  a  torrid  wel 
come  to  expect.  Perhaps  next  time  you'd  like  to  have  me 
send  a  herald  on  horseback  to  announce  my  arrival? 


GEORGE,  aside,  from  the  wardrobe 
Poor  fellow!     I  pity  him. 

DODO,  throwing  herself  into  the  arm-chair  and  whimpering 

Oh!  Allie,  don't  be  cross  with  me!     You  startled  me  so. 

26 


A  SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT,  putting  off  his  overcoat  and  patting  her 
on  the  shoulder 

Poor  little  girl!  Did  I  frighten  her,  and  did  I  make  her 
cross  ? 

DODO 

No;  but  it  isn't  considerate  to  creep  into  a  house  in  the 
small  hours  and  suddenly  appear. 

ALBERT  bends  over  her.    She  turns  her  head  away 

I  acknowledge  my  transgression,  and  you  will  keep  my  sin 
ever  before  me.  But  apparently  my  arrival  is  not  inoppor 
tune;  I  find  you  up  and  in  full  dress.  (Suspiciously.)  What 
are  you  doing  here  at  this  hour?  Tell  me! 

DODO,  aside 

Now  for  it!  How  can  I  introduce  them?  I  can't  now; 
I  must  temporize.  (Aloud.)  I  got  home  late  from  a  dance, 
and  as  I  couldn't  sleep  I  have  been  sitting  here — reading. 

ALBERT 

Reading  ?  What  ?  It  must  have  been  a  very  naughty  book, 
as  you  have  hidden  it. 

DODO 

Did  I  say  reading?     I  meant  thinking. 

27 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

ALBERT 

I  wouldn't  do  it  any  more.     It  spoils  your  complexion. 

DODO,  aside 

What  does  he  mean?  Why  do  I  feel  so  guilty?  and  how 
can  I  produce  that  man  while  Allie  is  in  one  of  his  suspicious 
moods  ? 

ALBERT 

Why  are  you  in  Harry's  room? 

DODO 

Because  mine  is  to  be  cleaned  early  to-morrow — no,  this 
morning;  and  I  wanted  to  sleep  late,  undisturbed.  I'm  dread 
fully  tired.  Is  the  cross-examination  over? 

ALBERT,  aside 

All  this  seems  very  strange.  (Aloud.)  What's  the  matter 
with  you?  (Taking  DODO'S  hand.)  You're  trembling. 

DODO 
With  cold,  dear;  only  with  cold. 

ALBERT,  turning  toward  wardrobe 

Let  me  get  you  a  wrap. 

28 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


DODO 

No,  no;  I  don't  want  anything.  It's  only  a  nervous  chill. 
(Putting  herself  in  front  of  the  wardrobe.)  I  can't  wear 
Harry's  things;  they  would  crush  my  gown;  it's  a  new  one. 
Admire  it,  please. 

ALBERT 

Well,  I  like  the  lining  and  the  sleeves;  but  you  will  take 
cold.  (Sees  Pierrot  costume  on  bed  and  brings  it  to  DODO.) 
Put  this  on.  (Examining  it.)  Was  your  dance  a  domino 
party  ? 


GEORGE,  aside,  opening  the  wardrobe  door 

Shall  I  come  out  and  claim  my  property?  (DODO  waves  him 
back  in  terror.)  She  is  badly  frightened,  and  I  feel — well,  as 
a  man  does  who  is  hiding  in  a  wardrobe  with  his  shoes  off. 
There  have  been  moments  in  my  life  when  I  have  been  easier 
in  my  mind. 

DODO,  aside 

What  shall  I  say?  (Aloud.)  How  curious  you  are  to 
night!  That  belongs  to  Harry;  he  had  it  made  for  a  Shrove 
Tuesday  frolic.  (Aside.)  What  will  that  man  in  the  ward 
robe  think  of  me?  I  can't  keep  account  of  the  fibs  I  have 
told  in  the  last  five  minutes;  and  how  am  I  going  to  present 
him  to  Allie?  (Aloud.)  No;  I  won't  put  it  on.  I'm  warm 
now,  and  it  smells  of  tobacco. 

29 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


ALBERT 


Just  as  you  please.  (  Throws  the  costume  on  the  bed  again; 
a  card  and  handkerchief  drop  from  the  pocket  as  he  does  so. 
He  picks  them  up  and  reads  card.)  "George  Carrington." 
(Examines  handkerchief.)  "G.  C."  Curious  things  to  find  in 
Harry's  pockets,  are  they  not?  (Looks  hard  at  her.) 


DODO 

Oh,  I  don't  know;  one  is  always  collecting  other  people's 
cards  and  handkerchiefs,  especially  at  a  carnival  party. 
(Aside.)  What  is  the  next  trial  that  Heaven  reserves  for  me? 
If  I  could  only  get  him  out  of  the  room! 

ALBERT 

What  have  you  been  doing  while  I  have  been  away? 

DODO 

Longing  for  you  to  come  back,  most  of  the  time.  Allie, 
don't  you  want  to  ask  the  other  questions  down-stairs?  You 
must  be  hungry  and  tired. 

ALBERT 

No ;  I  am  not.  I  slept  and  ate  on  the  train.  I  would  rather 
sit  here  with  you  than  do  anything  else.  (Sits  in  arm-chair.) 
Come  here,  Dodo.  Do  you  realize  that  it  is  eight  weeks  since 
I  have  seen  you? 

30 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


DODO,  with  a  glance  of  agony  towards  the  wardrobe 

No,  no;  I'm  too  heavy  and  you  are  too  tired.  Besides,  it's 
absurd  for  old  people  to  be  sentimental.  I'm  very  well  here. 
( Takes  a  chair  opposite  him. )  What  shall  we  talk  about  ? 


ALBERT 

Just  what  you  like.  It  doesn't  matter  much  what  you  say. 
The  main  point  is  that  you  are  here,  that  I  am  with  you,  that 
the  two  long  months  are  over.  (Leans  forward  and  takes  both 
her  hands.) 

DODO,  visibly  embarrassed 

It's  very  sweet  of  you  to  care  so  much.  Now,  stop  cooing, 
and  tell  me  all  the  great  and  good  things  you  have  done  in 
these  two  months. 

ALBERT 

My  affairs  don't  interest  me  at  present.  What  have  you 
to  tell  me?  I  have  a  presentiment  that  you  have  something 
important  to  break  to  me.  Have  you  been  getting  into  trou 
ble,  flirting  too  much?  Courage!  Confess.  You  know  I'm 
not  jealous. 

DODO 

I  haven't;  indeed,  I  haven't.  I  can't  understand  what 
should  make  you  think  so.  I  wish  you'd  come  down-stairs. 
It's  so  much  cozier  there. 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


ALBERT 


How  anxious  you  seem  to  decoy  me  out  of  this  room ! 
(Aside.)  There's  some  mystery  here.  (Aloud.)  No,  I  pre 
fer  to  stay  here.  Down-stairs  we  should  wake  Polly,  and 
in  half  an  hour  the  carpet-cleaner  will  arrive. 


DODO 


That  is  true;  morning  is  almost  here.  (Aside.)  What 
shall  I  do?  Fool  not  to  have  told  him  at  once!  Now  the 
opportune  moment,  if  there  ever  was  one,  is  gone  forever. 


GEORGE,,  putting  his  head  out  of  the  wardrobe 

Does  she  contemplate  passing  me  off  as  the  carpet-man?  I 
feel  meek  and  lowly  enough  in  spirit  to  be  one,  but  my  make 
up  won't  suit  the  role.  (DODO  motions  him  back.)  My  cue 
hasn't  come  yet,  evidently.  (Disappears.) 


ALBERT 

Do  you  realize  that  we  are  rarely  together,  Dodo?  I  am 
so  absorbed  in  my  business,  and  you  are  so  seldom  at  home, 
that  we  don't  have  much  of  each  other's  society.  I  have  been 
feeling  a  little  left  out  of  your  life  lately.  Everybody  tells 
me  that  I  have  a  charming  wife,  but  she's  hardly  mine  at  all, 
and  I'm  afraid  I  resent  your  friends'  and  admirers'  monopoly 
of  you. 

32 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO,  aside 

This  is  opportune!  It's  only  to  me  that  such  things 
happen.  It's  growing  harder  and  harder  every  moment. 
(Aloud.)  You  dear  boy!  You  have  been  coming  to  a  con 
clusion  that  I  reached  long  ago.  I  am  not  clever  enough  to 
take  part  in  your  life;  but  why  shouldn't  you  share  my  plea 
sures  and  occupations? 

ALBERT 

Why  not,  indeed,  if  they  would  really  please  or  occupy  me? 
Let  me  see;  what  are  you  going  to  do  to-morrow? 


DODO 

Nothing  to  speak  of.  (Taking  tablets  out  of  bag  on  table.) 
At  nine  o'clock,  manicure;  at  half  after  nine  to  ten.  sewing- 
class  to  provide — 

ALBERT 

Buttons  for  the  husband  of  the  new  woman? 

DODO 
No;  the  new  man  uses  studs — garments  for  the  destitute. 

ALBERT 

Oh,  I  remember  that  society,  and  the  old  man  who  refused 
to  wear  the  aforesaid  garments,  saying  that  he  might  be  poor, 
but,  thank  God!  he  wasn't  deformed. 

33 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


DODO 


But,  Allie.  we  don't  sew  them  ourselves  any  longer;  we 
pay  poor  women  to  make  them. 


ALBERT 

And  do  you  also  pay  poor  men  to  wear  them  ? 

DODO 

You're  impossible!  From  ten  to  eleven  o'clock,  lecture  on 
the  Great  Universal  Seven-skinned  Mother-father,  by  the 
Swami  Humbugander,  at  Mrs.  Hawtrey's;  eleven  to  twelve, 
skirt-dancing  lessons  here;  twelve  to  two,  cooking-school  and 
luncheon. 

ALBERT 

I  hope  that  you  are  allowing  plenty  of  time  for  the  diges 
tion  of  the  cooking-school  luncheon. 

DODO 
We  don't  eat  the  things  we  cook ;  we  give  them  to  the  poor. 

ALBERT 

Well,  if  you  do,  the  poor  ye  will  not  have  always  with  you. 
I  never  knew  what  the  League  for  the  Abolition  of  Poverty 
meant  before. 

34 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO,  reading 

Two  to  four,  try  on  hats  at  Louise's;  four  to  four  and  a 
half,  lesson  on  the  great  principles  of  the  American  Consti 
tution  and  the  method  of  their  application  to  ward  politics, 
at  the  Woman's  League  for  the  Diffusion  of  the  Knowledge 
of  Existing  Methods  of  Political  Procedure. 


ALBERT 

Only  half  an  hour  for  that?     Then  you  must  omit  nam 
ing  the  association  at  your  meeting. 


DODO 

Don't  be  critical;  it  doesn't  suit  your  type.  (Consulting 
tablets.)  Then,  from  four  and  a  half  to  seven  there  are  visits 
and  teas,  dinner,  and  the  opera. 


GEORGE,  aside,  opening  wardrobe  door 

Is  she  going  to  keep  us  both  here  while  she  reads  that  diary 
through?  Why  didn't  she  choose  a  shorter  one — Pepys's,  for 
instance  ?  (  Disappears. ) 

DODO 

Now,  don't  you  think  that  if  you  left  business  and  amused 
yourself  with  me  for  a  few  days  it  would  refresh  you? 

35 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

ALBERT 

Yes,  no  doubt,  if  I  could  take  the  rest-cure  afterwards. 
(Taking  the  tablets.)  I  am  sorry,  dear,  but,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  the  skirt-dance  and  the  manicure,  your  programme 
doesn't  tempt  me. 

GEORGE,  aside,  opening  the  wardrobe  door 

Why  doesn't  she  tell  him  that  there  are  half  a  dozen  down 
stairs,  and  get  him  out  of  the  room?  (Disappears.) 


DODO 

The  manicure  is  a  dear  old  lady,  and  I'm  sorry  that  I  can't 
ask  men  to  the  dancing  class,  for  it's  Mrs.  Plumply  Bant 
ing's  turn  to  do  a  pas  seul  to-day. 


ALBERT  grimaces 


DODO 

But  don't  you  care  for  the  Swami's  lecture  and  the  politi 
cal  lesson? 

ALBERT 

Swami  no  Swamis,  Dodo;  and  remember  that  in  politics 
I  am  like  the  Dutch  judge  who  said  that  he  never  heard  both 
sides  of  a  case  because  it  mixed  him  up  so. 

36 


WARDROBE 
DOOR 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

GEORGE,  aside,  opening  wardrobe  door 

That  sounds  promising,  and  exceeds  my  fondest  hopes. 
(Disappears.} 

DODO 

But  you  might  go  with  me  to  Louise's. 

ALBERT 

No,  my  dear;  that  would  mean  financial  ruin.  You  would 
look  so  charming  in  every  hat  you  tried  on  that  I  should 
have  to  buy  them  all. 

DODO 

You  desert  me,  as  usual.  I  shall  no  longer  call  you  Allie, 
but  Alibi. 

ALBERT 

Ah,  how  clever  you  are!  I  already  perceive  the  effect  of 
the  study  of  ward  politics. 

DODO 

Well !  if  husbands  will  give  their  whole  time  and  strength 
to  piling  up  money,  wives  must — 

ALBERT 

Invent  new  ways  to  spend  it,  of  course.  Come,  dear  girl, 
don't  let  us  quarrel.  If  I  can't  find  time  to  study  skirt-danc- 

37 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

ing  with  you,  or  learn  the  principles  of  ward  politics  as  ap 
plied  to  the  American  Constitution,  I  give  you  these  oppor 
tunities  to  become  learned  and  agile.  Somebody  has  to  pay 
for  the  lessons.  As  husbands  go,  I  am  not  a  bad  specimen — 
at  least,  you  can't  accuse  me  of  jealousy.  By  the  way,  how 
are  they? 

DODO 

Whom  do  you  mean  by  they? 

ALBERT 

Why,  the  Pretorian  Guard,  the  devotees,  the  victims,  the 
Sacred  Legion  of  your  adorers.  No  quarrels  among  them? 
No  questions  of  precedence? 

GEORGE,  aside,  opening  ivardrobe  door 
Saint  Venus!     She's  a  flirt.     We're  lost! 


DODO 

Not  yet.     They,  like  the  citizens  of  this  glorious  Republic, 
enjoy  equal  rights  and  no  privileges. 

ALBERT 

You  are  quite  sure  that  there  is  no  sign  of  an  approaching 
dictatorship  ? 

DODO 
Quite. 

38 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


ALBERT 

Dear,  if  you  ever  let  one  of  those  fellows  get  ahead  of  the 
others — 

DODO 

There  will  be  a  revolution  and  an  absolute  monarch.  An 
Emperor  Alibius.  Ah!  dear,  you  tempt  me  to  be  imprudent. 
But  a  despot  has  to  stay  at  home  to  tyrannize.  He  can't  be 
always  running  to  El  Dorado  gold-grabbing. 

ALBERT 

Apropos  of  gold-grabbing,  I  have  a  glorious  scheme  on 
hand,  known  only  to  three  other  men  and  myself.  Sit  down, 
dear,  and  let  me  tell  you  about  it.  Remember  it  is  a  secret, 
and  if  any  of  those  fellows  on  the  Street  should  get  hold  of 
it —  (Movement  in  the  wardrobe.) 

GEORGE,  aside,  from  wardrobe 
The  psychological  moment  has  arrived! 

DODO 
Hush!     Don't  speak  so  loud. 

ALBERT 

Why?  Who  can  hear  us  in  this  room,  at  this  hour?  Why 
do  you  stop  me? 

39 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DODO,  Hurried 

Since  the  invention  of  the  X-rays  I  never  feel  really  alone. 
Don't  tell  me  your  secrets,  dear.  Indeed,  I  don't  think  I  can 
understand  them. 

ALBERT 

Oh,  yes;  you  can  understand  this  one  perfectly — a  driv 
elling  idiot  could.  You've  heard  of  the  pearls  they've  been 
finding  in  Arizona — 

DODO,  throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissing  him 
And  you  have  brought  me  some!     You  darling! 

ALBERT 

Hm ! — no,  I  haven't.  I  got  that  kiss  under  false  pretences. 
You'll  have  to  take  it  back  again.  You  see,  in  surveying  on 
the  shore  of  the  lakes  where  they  were  found — 

GEORGE  opens  wardrobe  door.     DODO  motions  him  back 

Hang  it !  If  I  weren't  afraid  of  getting  her  into  trouble — 
(Disappears.) 

DODO,  rising  and  putting  her  hand  over  ALBERT'S  lips 

Never  mind,  dear,  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  me.  Without 
meaning  to,  I  should  be  sure  to  let  it  out.  I  talk  in  my  sleep 
sometimes. 

40 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT 

But  you  seldom  go  to  church,  so  there's  no  danger. 

DODO 
No;  but  I  attend  lectures. 

ALBERT 

Where  the  Swami  does  all  the  talking. 

DODO 

That's  the  reason  I  always  go  to  sleep.  Don't,  dear,  tell 
me  anything  more. 

ALBERT 

You  seem  uneasy,  not  to  say  frightened. 

DODO 

I  ?  Why,  what  an  idea !  I  am  only  too  tired  and  too  stu 
pid  to  understand  anything  to-night.  I  danced  every  dance, 
you  know,  and  I  am  dying  of  sheer  fatigue. 

ALBERT 

That's  my  usual  conge.  I  know  the  formula.  Shall  I  un 
lace  your  gown? 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


DODO 


Oh,  no,  thank  you;  I  can  do  it  myself  quite  well.  Please, 
I'd  much  rather  you  wouldn't.  Go — do  go!  (Pushes  him 
gently  towards  the  door.) 

ALBERT 

I'll  be  hanged  if  I  will  until  I  solve  this  mystery.  I'll  go 
when  you're  quite  comfy.  Let  me  get  you  a  dressing-gown. 
(Goes  towards  wardrobe.) 

DODO,  running  in  front  of  him 

No,  no ;  I  don't  want  one !  There  isn't  anything  there  that 
belongs  to  me. 

ALBERT 

Are  you  quite  sure  ?  You  may  have  put  something  in  there 
in  a  hurry,  you  know. 

DODO  shakes  her  head 

ALBERT 

Sometimes  even  a  clever  woman  makes  a  mistake. 

DODO 

And  sometimes  a  suspicious  man  does. 

42 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


ALBERT 

I  think — I  am  almost  sure — that  there  is  something  there 
which  ought  to  come  out  now. 

DODO,  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm 

Allie,  if  you  open  that  door,  I  shall  faint.  There  are  rats 
in  that  closet.  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  let  them  out!  Do 
you  want  to  kill  me? 

ALBERT,  throwing  her  off  and  seizing  a  foil  from  the  zvall 
No;  but  I  am  going  to  kill  the  rat. 

DODO  screams.     ALBERT  tries  to  open  the  zvardrobe 
door,  which  is  thrown  back  in  his  face 

Enter  GEORGE,  shod  in  red  bath-slippers,  the  lid  of  a 
hat-box  on  one  arm,  and  a  cane  in  his  right  hand 

GEORGE,  placing  himself  in  an  attitude  of  defense 
and  using  the  hat-box  cover  as  a  shield 

I  have  an  apology  to  make  to  you,  sir. 

ALBERT,  fiercely 

Any  apology  will  be  insufficient,  sir. 

43 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

GEORGE,  still  in  a  fighting  attitude 

I  insist  upon  giving  you  an  explanation  of  my  presence  here, 
and  in  justice  to  this  lady — 


ALBERT 

We  will  leave  her  out  of  the  conversation,  if  you  please. 
As  for  your  explanation,  I  think  that  I  am  already  familiar 
with  it.  Explanations  given  under  certain  circumstances  have 
a  strong  family  likeness.  It  is  what  follows  the  explanation 
that  interests  me. 

GEORGE 

If  you  are  going  to  take  it  in  that  way,  I  am  at  your  ser 
vice.  But  you  shall  hear  me  first. 

ALBERT 

What  is  the  use  of  wasting  time.  I  know  your  story — it's 
the  usual  one.  I'll  tell  it  to  you,  if  you  insist  upon  it. 

GEORGE 

Do  so,  then;  but  remember  that  my  patience  is  not  inex 
haustible,  and  that  if  some  one  beside  myself  were  not  impli 
cated — 

ALBERT 

I'll  try,  then.  (GEORGE  and  ALBERT  lower  their  weapons.) 
You  dined  too  well,  of  course. 

44 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

GEORGE 

Pardon  me,  I  supped  with  a  bachelor  friend. 

ALBERT 

This  is  an  unimportant  detail.  To  continue :  a  trifle  ex 
hilarated,  you  mistook  my  house  for  yours,  and  by  a  strange 
coincidence,  which  is  also  an  every-day  occurrence,  your  latch 
key  fitted  my  house-door,  and  you  came  up  to  this  room,  under 
the  impression  that  it  was  yours. 

GEORGE 

I  don't  see  the  use  of  all  this.  Either  you  believe  me,  or 
you  don't.  What  do  you  propose  to  do  about  it? 

ALBERT 

Don't  interrupt;  we'll  come  to  that  soon  enough. 

GEORGE 

But  I  will  interrupt.  You've  had  the  floor  the  whole  even 
ing,  while  I  have  been  stifling  in  that  stuffy  wardrobe,  hoping 
you'd  tire  of  talking  and  go,  and  now  you  want  to  impose 
your  conventional  version  of  my  adventures  on  me.  It  won't 
do ;  mine  is  the  romantic,  rather  than  the  classical  explanation. 
I  was  exhilarated,  but  I  entered  your  house  by  the  window 
on  that  balcony  to  avoid  freezing  on  my  friend's  roof. 
(Aside.)  Sounds  unlikely;  can't  blame  him  if  he  doesn't 
believe  it. 

45 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

ALBERT 

And  you  found — 

GEORGE 

The  room  empty.     Before  I  had  time  to  leave  it — 

ALBERT 

A  lady  entered. 

GEORGE 

Wrong  again.     Two  ladies. 

ALBERT 

I  see  you  go  me  one  better  every  time.     What  did  you  do 

then  ? 

GEORGE 

I  was  in  a  panic  myself,  for  fear  of  frightening  them. 

ALBERT 

And,  out  of  chivalrous  consideration,  you  concealed  your 
self  in  the  wardrobe. 

GEORGE 

Yes. 

ALBERT 

Where  you  hoped  to  remain  hidden  until  an  opportune  mo 
ment  for — 

46 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


GEORGE 

Exactly. 

DODO 

Why,  this  is  wonderful.  I  never  knew  before  that  you  were 
a  mind-reader. 

GEORGE 

A  remarkable  case  of  telepathy!  Seer  as  you  are,  I  wish 
you  could  realize  that  though  this  house,  this  cane,  and  pos 
sibly  these  slippers  are  yours,  this  story  is  mine,  and  I  protest — 


ALBERT 

Let  us  get  on  with  it,  then,  for  God's  sake!     While  you 
were  sneak — hidden  one  of  the  ladies  left  the  room. 


DODO 

Allie,  why  have  you  concealed  this  wonderful  gift  from 
me  all  these  years?     You  would  make  a  fortune  with  it. 


ALBERT 

Oh,  I  am  the  luckiest  of  men ! 

GEORGE 

And  I  am  the  most  unfortunate. 

47 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


ALBERT 

And  while  you  were  giving  Mrs.  Fielding  an  elaborate  ac 
count  of  your  adventures — 

GEORGE 

Your  footsteps  were  heard,  you  knocked  at  the  door,  and, 
fearing  that  you  were  of  a  jealous  and  suspicious  nature,  I 
very  weakly  consented  to  hide  myself  again,  to  spare  this  lady 
an  unpleasant  scene.  To  my  profound  regret,  I  have  been 
unable  to  do  so,  and  I  offer  her  my  humble  excuses  for  the 
trouble  and  anxiety  I  have  given  her. 

ALBERT 

A  very  ingenious  story !     In  my  place,  would  you  believe  it  ? 

GEORGE 

In  your  place,  I  should  believe  her. 

ALBERT 

This  is  a  sceptical  age! 

DODO 

Allie,  I  assure  you  it's  quite  true. 

GEORGE 

On  my  honor  as  a  gentleman,  it  is  true,  and  I  am  prepared 
to  maintain  its  truth  at  any  cost. 

48 


"A  PS  / 


V:. 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

DODO,  shaking  hands  with  GEORGE 

You're  a  fine  fellow,  even  if  you  have  made  a  lot  of  trouble 
in  this  family. 

ALBERT,  hesitating 
Suppose  you  present  me  to  your  chivalrous  friend. 


DODO 
I  don't  know  his  name. 


GEORGE,  going  to  bed,  dropping  cane  and  hat-box  cover, 

and  picking  up  Pierrot  costume,  from  the  pocket 

of  which  he  takes  out  a  card 

Permit  me.  (Hands  card  to  ALBERT.)  It's  so  awkward 
introducing  one's  self,  you  know. 

ALBERT 

Not  so  awkward  as  some  other  things.  (Reads.)  "George 
Carrington."  I've  seen  that  name  before.  (Aside.)  What  an 
unholy  mess  this  is.  And  what  am  I  to  believe?  And  what 
ought  I  to  do?  He  seems  a  gentleman,  and  I  can't  think  that 
my  Dodo — and  yet,  that  ridiculous  story  is  too  improbable. 

POLLY,  knocking  on  door  centre  and  calling  outside 

Dodo,  Dodo,  wake  up!  Let  me  in.  I  am  so  frightened! 
I  am  going  to  faint.  Quick,  quick,  open  the  door ! 

49 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


DODO 

Heavens!  What  is  the  matter  now?  Here's  Polly  fright 
ened  to  death,  and  I  must  let  her  in,  and  she  ought  not  to 
find  you  here.  She's  had  a  nightmare,  I  suppose.  I  told  her 
not  to  eat  that  Newburg.  Oh,  please  hide  yourselves — do; 
she  may  be  in  her — 

POLLY,  outside 

Dodo,  Dodo,  let  me  in  before  we're  murdered!  Hurry! 
Hurry ! 

DODO 

Hide — hide  yourselves.  I  can't  have  her  find  you  here.  I 
won't  be  humiliated  before  Polly. 


ALBERT 

And  I  won't  hide  in  that  confounded  wardrobe  to  please  any 
body. 

GEORGE 

Nor   will   I.     That   piece   of   furniture  has   made  trouble 
enough  in  this  domestic  circle  already. 


DODO 

Then  I  must.     I  haven't  the  courage  to  go  through  another 
scene.     (ALBERT  detains  her.) 

50 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 


GEORGE 

What  a  nuisance  I  am!     I  am  willing  to  do  anything  to 
atone  for  my  thoughtlessness. 


ALBERT 

Sh!    Sh!    (Sternly.)    Dodo,  open  that  door.   (DODO  obeys.) 
Enter  POLLY  in  a  dressing-gown,  with  her  hair  loose 

POLLY,  clutching  DODO 

Dodo,  the  maids  say  that  there  are  burglars  walking  on  the 
roof  and  trying  the  trap-door.  They  heard  them  distinctly, 
and  came  to  tell  me.  We'll  be  murdered,  and  my  birthday 
presents  stolen.  If  brother  Albert  were  only  here,  or  that — 
(Sees  ALBERT  and  GEORGE,  starts  and  gasps.)  Albert — why — 
how  ?  Mr.  Carrington — how  came  you  here  ? 

ALBERT 

That's  what  we've  all  been  asking  him. 

GEORGE 

It  will  hardly  be  worth  your  while  to  listen  to  my  excuses ; 
they  did  not  satisfy  your  brother. 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

POLLY,  warmly 

I  am  sure  that  Mr.  Carrington  is  incapable  of  doing  any 
thing  that  requires  an  apology,  though  he  may  be  courteous 
and  modest  enough  to  offer  one  where  none  is  demanded. 

ALBERT 

Softly,  softly,  Polly!  It  seems  you  know  this  gentleman, 
and  have  the  advantage  of  Mrs.  Fielding,  to  whom  I  found 
him  making  an  unseasonable  and — unexpected  visit. 

POLLY 
Then  I  am  to  blame,  for  I  asked  him  to  come. 

ALBERT 

Are  you  awake?  Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying? 
This  visit  was  intended  for  you? 

POLLY 

Yes ;  I  asked  him  to  call  to-night. 

ALBERT 

Polly! 

POLLY 

I  asked  him  to  call  to-night — no,  to-night  I  asked  him 
to  call. 

52 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT 

When  and  where  did  you  make  his  acquaintance? 

POLLY 

This  evening,  in  the  street.  But  why  are  we  chatting  here, 
when  the  burglars  are  perhaps  entering  the  house,  and  we  may 
be  sent  to  our  Maker  inside  of  five  minutes? 

ALBERT 

She's  right.  Mr.  Carrington,  load  that  revolver,  and  stand 
by  the  window,  please.  Polly,  turn  down  the  gas.  (POLLY 
does  so.)  I'll  watch  the  trap-door.  They  can't  enter  from 
the  roof  in  any  other  way.  ( Takes  up  foil  and  opens  the  door 
centre.  GEORGE  loads  revolver,  and  POLLY  sinks  into  the  arm 
chair.  ) 

DODO,  running  to  ALBERT  and  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm 
Come  away;  you'll  be  shot! 

ALBERT,  coldly,  removing  her  hand  ceremoniously 

Don't  be  alarmed.  I  think  the  servants  have  been  dream 
ing.  None  but  honest  folk  would  make  noise  enough  to  wake 
them.  I'm  more  interested  in  something  else  at  present. 
(DODO,  repulsed,  looks  haughtily  at  him  and  returns  to  left 
centre.)  Now,  Polly,  you  are  perfectly  safe.  Stay  where 
you  are,  and  answer  my  questions.  You  met  Mr.  Carring 
ton  this  evening? 

53 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 
POLLY,  rising  and  going  to  centre 


Yes. 

GEORGE 

And  I  was  afraid  that  I  was  never  going  to  find  you  again. 

POLLY 

So  was  I,  and  I  was  racking  my  brains  to  think  of  some 
way  of  letting  you  know  my  address.  It  was  stupid  of  me 
to  forget  when  I  asked  you  to  come  and  let  my  sister  thank 
you  for  your  assistance.  (Mischievously.)  Frankly,  I  con 
templated  a  "personal,"  and  composed  one  before  I  went  to 
sleep. 

DODO,  aside 
Little  fox! 

GEORGE,  aside 
Angel ! 

ALBERT,  aside 

Guileless,  innocent  dove !  How  little  does  the  best  business 
man  understand  women — least  of  all,  the  women  of  his  own 
family ! 

GEORGE 

A  "personal"  ?     Let  me  hear  it. 

POLLY 

I'm  not  a  born  writer,  and  I  haven't  studied  the  "personal" 
style,  but  of  course  I  knew  that  it  should  be  terse,  shouldn't  it? 

54 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT 

At  thirty  cents  a  word,  one  is  perforce  laconic. 

GEORGE,  rapturously 

Do  try  to  recall  it ! 

POLLY 

It  was  rather  neat  for  a  beginner.  Let  me  see.  (Reciting 
mechanically.)  If  the  hand — young  gentleman  who  extri 
cated  a  lady  from  a  damaged  cab  last  evening,  at  Fifty-sixth 
Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  will  call  at  Twenty  East  Thirty- 
sixth  Street  he  will  be  warmly  welcomed. 

GEORGE 

I  have  been  so  beyond  my  fondest  anticipations.  (To 
POLLY.  )  How  sweet  of  you  to  be  so  grateful  for  a  slight  ser 
vice,  which  gave  me  such  pleasure  to  render  you!  And  you 
were  really  going  to  send  this  notice? 

POLLY 
No;  on  reflection,  I  decided  not  to  do  so. 

ALBERT,  with  a  sigh  of  relief 
Ah! 

GEORGE 

Why? 

55 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


POLLY 


Because  I  remembered  that  "personals"  were  rarely  written 
by  nice  people,  and  I  didn't  want  to  frighten  you  away. 


ALBERT 

You  misjudged  him,  my  dear;  he  is  a  man  of  iron  nerve. 

GEORGE 

I  should  never  be  courageous  enough  to  decline  such  an 
invitation. 

POLLY 

But,  tell  me,  how  did  you  find  out  where  we  lived?  And 
why  did  you  come  at  such  a  strange  hour? 

ALBERT 

That  is  a  family  query,  Polly.  Your  friend  has  already 
answered  it.  Now,  suppose  you  stop  looking  at  him  a  mo 
ment,  and  answer  a  few  questions  in  your  turn.  Where  did 
you  meet  Mr.  Carrington? 

POLLY 

Don't  be  severe,  Allie.  You  can't  be  too  nice  to  Mr.  Car 
rington.  He  has  put  us  all  under  obligations  to  him. 

56 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT,  ironically 
He  has. 

POLLY 

You  see,  Albert,  I  went  first  to  a  "Rosebud"  dinner,  and  was 
going  with  my  maid  in  a  cab  to  meet  Dodo  at  the  dance,  when, 
at  the  corner  of  Fifty-sixth  Street,  we  crashed  into  a  hansom, 
and  something — I  think  it  was  a  wheel — fell  off,  and  so  did 
our  cabman.  Parkins  and  I  climbed  out,  while  he  and  the 
hansom  man  were  discussing  the  accident.  Just  as  we  col 
lided,  a  man — Mr.  Carrington — jumped  from  the  hansom, 
ran  up  to  us  to  know  if  we  were  hurt,  and  insisted  on  our 
taking  his  cab,  which  was  uninjured.  He  followed  us  on  foot 
to  the  Maplesons',  and  when  he  helped  us  out  at  their  door 
I  asked  him  to  call  on  you  (turning  to  DODO)  and  let  you  thank 
him,  and  he  gave  me  his  card.  But  somehow,  though  we 
chatted  until  Parkins  reminded  me  that  it  was  growing  late, 
I  forgot  to  tell  him  our  address.  Parkins  said  afterwards  that 
it  didn't  matter,  as  she  was  sure  that  we  would  know  each 
other  again  by  sight,  which  was  silly  of  her,  because  what 
good  would  that  do  ? 

ALBERT 

And  that  is  all  ? 

POLLY 

That's  what  Dodo  said  when  I  told  her.  (Glancing  at  win 
dow.)  Ah,  there  they  are!  I  had  forgotten  about  them. 
Save  us!  Save  us!  (Rushes  into  GEORGE'S  arms.  DODO 
clings  to  ALBERT'S  arm.) 

57 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 
Two  -figures  appear  outside  the  window 

GEORGE,  pushing  DODO  and  POLLY  into  the  wardrobe,  return 
ing  to  window,  and  pointing  revolver  at  figures  outside 

Stand  and  deliver! — no,  I  oughtn't  to  say  that.  Clear  out, 
or  I'll  fire!  Scatter,  before  I  count  three.  One —  (Discovers 
that  the  supposed  house-breakers  arc  JOE  MITCHELL  and  TOM 
CAREY.)  What  are  you  doing  here,  boys?  Wasn't  it  enough 
to  have  got  me  into  an  infernal  mess  with  your  primitive  ideas 
of  humor,  but  you  must  frighten  other  people  to  death  as  well  ? 
Be  off,  or  I'll  fire !  The  joke's  on  you  this  time. 

ALBERT,  joining  GEORGE  at  window  and  throwing 
down  his  foil 

These  gentlemen  are  friends  of  yours? 

GEORGE  nods 

It  is  not  the  first  time  this  evening  that  I  have  regretted  the 
fact  that  they  are. 

ALBERT 

Pray  invite  them  in.  I  am  growing  accustomed  to  this  sort 
of  thing.  We  seem  to  be  having  a  morning  reception.  Per 
haps  they,  too,  have  had  a  special  invitation  from  some  mem 
ber  of  the  family.  (Opens  the  window.)  Pray  come  in,  gen 
tlemen.  I  suppose  you  are  giving  me  a  surprise  party  to 
celebrate  my  unexpected  return  home.  You're  welcome. 
Pray  make  yourselves  thoroughly  comfortable. 

58 


A  SURPRISE  PARTY 
Enter  TOM  and  JOE 

TOM  and  JOE,  together 

We  owe  you  an  apology,  sir;  but  no  doubt  Mr.  Carrington 
has  already  explained  everything. 

ALBERT 

No;  we  have  been  too  busy  since  his  arrival.  Perhaps  you 
will  be  good  enough — 

JOE 

Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  and  old  George  have 
been  hobnobbing  here  for  over  an  hour,  and  he  hasn't  told  you 
the  good  one  we  got  in  on  him?  What  have  you  been  talk 
ing  about? 

TOM,  taking  off  his  cap 

You  are  a  cool  hand.  You  find  a  strange  man  meandering 
over  your  ranch,  and  don't  find  out  how  he  got  in.  The 
Klondike  isn't  in  it  with  you.  And  then  they  say  that  taking 
fliers  on  the  Street  breaks  up  a  man's  nerves. 

ALBERT 

You  have  the  advantage  of  me. 

TOM 

I  think  not.     I'm  your  friend  Carey's  younger  brother. 

59 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

ALBERT 

The  deuce  you  are !  Now  what  are  you  here  for  ?  ( Aside. ) 
No  wonder  I  didn't  remember  the  cub;  it's  grown. 

TOM,  mischievously 

Well,  as  Mr.  Carrington  here  is  too  much  of  a  man  of  the 
world  to  feel  embarrassed  or  to  offer  an  explanation  under 
any  circumstances,  I  suppose  that  a  simple  person  like  myself 
must  do  it  for  him.  Superior  people  are  apt  to  need  some  one 
to  go  about  with  them  to  enable  them  to  remain  superior. 

GEORGE 
Never  mind  commentary.     Give  us  the  text. 


TOM 

We  were  having  a  little  supper,  after  the  Arion  ball,  in  Joe's 
rooms  at  the  Pandemonium,  when  George  said  something,  in 
his  high  and  mighty  way,  about  a  man  of  the  world  never 
being  at  a  loss  in  any  situation.  We  naturally  disagreed  with 
him.  Later,  when  the  rooms  grew  stuffy,  we  went  up  on 
the  roof  to  cool  our  heads,  and  George,  who  had  been  rather 
pensive  and  abstemious  all  the  evening,  wandered  off  unso- 
ciably  by  himself. 

JOE 

You  see,  he  had  just  had  an  adventure. 

60 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

ALBERT 

At  the  Arion  ball?  (Looks  apprehensively  at  the  ward 
robe.) 

GEORGE 
I  say,  can't  you  let  that  alone? 

JOE 

No;  before  the  ball.  It  spoiled  his  evening.  A  lovely  un 
known  had  her  cab  smashed,  and  George  gave  her  his,  dogged 
her  to  her  party,  and  then  joined  us,  hard  hit  and  very  much 
down  in  the  mouth. 

GEORGE 
Hush,  Joe !     You  know  I  refused  to  discuss  the  lady. 

JOE 
Y'es;  that  was  the  ominous  feature  of  the  case. 

TOM 

When  you  have  finished  adding  these  irrelevant  details,  I'll 
go  on  with  my  story. 

JOE 

We're  only  supplying  the  human  interest  to  your  bald  nar 
rative. 

61 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

TOM 

To  continue — for  I  shall  finish  my  tale  if  I  have  to  hold 
you  both  down. 

ALBERT 

Please  go  on.     I  am  serious  enough,  in  all  conscience. 

TOM 

We  thought  it  would  be  fun  to  leave  the  man  of  the  world, 
who  could  so  easily  master  any  situation,  out  on  the  roof,  to 
see  howr  he  would  get  down  to  terra  firma.  So  we  piled  in 
suddenly,  locked  the  trap-door,  and  left  George  alone  with  the 
night  and  his  worldly  wisdom.  Then  we  began  to  play  poker 
and  got  interested,  and  it  was  half  an  hour  before  we  went  up 
to  look  for  him,  to  see  what  kind  of  a  ladder  he  had  made  of 
his  savoir  faire.  Naturally,  we  didn't  find  him,  and,  after  we 
had  looked  behind  every  chimney  and  tried  every  door,  we 
noticed  this  convenient  balcony,  jumped  down  on  it,  and — 
here  we  are. 

ALBERT 

And  you  are  very  welcome.  (Goes  to  GEORGE  and  offers 
him  his  hand.)  Mr.  Carrington,  I  owe  you  an  apology. 

GEORGE 

Don't  mention  it.  I  know  how  absurd  my  story  seemed. 
It  sounded  incredible  to  me  while  I  was  telling  it.  I  could 

62 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

never  forgive  myself  for  entering  your  house  by  the  window 
if  I  did  not  hope  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  reentering  it  by 
the  door. 

ALBERT 

And  now,  as  talking  is  thirsty  work,  and  we've  all  done 
our  share  of  it,  come  down-stairs  and  have  something. 

ALL 
We  will. 

JOE,  aside  to  TOM 

He  seemed  a  trifle  stiff  at  first,  but  he's  the  right  sort, 
isn't  he? 

TOM 
Sure. 

DODO,  emerging  from  the  wardrobe  with  dignity 
Mr.  Fielding,  present  your  new  friends  to  me. 

ALBERT,  aside 

It's  her  turn  now.  Expiation  looms  before  me.  (Aloud.) 
Mrs.  Fielding,  may  I  present  Mr.  Carey  and  Mr.  Mitchell? 

DODO 

Charmed,  I'm  sure.  There's  nothing  so  nice  as  an  im 
promptu  party.  You  were  on  your  way  to  the  dining-room. 
I'll  go  with  you,  and  make  you  a  rarebit.  I  make  them  rather 
well. 

63 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

ALBERT,  aside 

How  sweetly  she's  taking  it.  (Aloud.)  There  isn't  any 
thing  indigestible  that  my  wife  cannot  and  does  not  make. 

DODO 

And  dishes  that  can  be  eaten  with  perfect  impunity  at  the 
club  are  so  apt  to  disagree  with  husbands  when  partaken  of  in 
the  sanctity  of  home. 

ALBERT,  aside 
I  am  not  so  sure,  after  all,  that  she  has  forgiven  me. 

DODO 
Dear  Mr.  Carrington,  may  I  borrow  your  costume? 

GEORGE 
It,  like  its  owner,  is  entirely  at  your  service. 

DODO 

Always  the  knight-errant.  (Takes  Pierrot  costume  and 
hands  it  through  wardrobe  door  to  POLLY.) 

LBERT,  aside  to  DODO 
Now  we'll  get  out  of  the  way  and  give  Sis  a  chance. 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

GEORGE 

Can't  I  see  Miss  Fielding  for  a  moment? 

DODO 
What  do  you  think  I  borrowed  your  costume  for? 

ALBERT 

Dodo,  will  you  ever  forgive  me? 

DODO 

Ever  is  a  long  time,  and  I  pity  you  too  much  not  to  forgive 
you  now. 

ALBERT 

Darling ! 

DODO 

Do  not  misunderstand  me.  I  forgive  you  because  all  ten 
der  feeling  for  you  is  dead — annihilated  by  the  baseness  of 
your  conduct  this  evening. 

Enter  POLLY  in  the  Pierrot  costume,  from  the  wardrobe 

POLLY 

Please,  may  I  come  to  the  party  too?  Mr.  Carrington,  pre 
sent  your  old  friends  to  me.  We  all  talk  alike  in  this  family, 
don't  we? 

GEORGE  presents  TOM  and  JOE  to  her 
65 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

ALBERT 

You  must  not  say  such  things  to  me,  even  in  jest. 

DODO 

Jesting  is  out  of  the  question.  I  am  too  outraged  by  your 
insulting  suspicions  to  be  able  to  realize  anything  but  the  in 
dignities  you  have  heaped  upon  me. 

ALBERT 

But,  Dodo,  I  had  every  excuse  for  my  suspicions.  Appear 
ances  were  against  you.  Could  I  distrust  the  evidence  of  my 


senses  ? 


DODO 


The  man  who  trusts  the  evidence  of  his  senses  rather  than 
his  wife's  word,  is  unworthy  the  name  of — of — 


ALBERT 

Of  what? 

DODO 


Of  husband,  even.  O  Allie,  how  could  you  think  so  meanly 
of  me  ?  And  how  unreasonable  of  you  to  balance  appearances, 
a  little  circumstantial  evidence,  against  your  knowledge  of 
my  character !  It  is  too  bad ;  you  have  broken  my  heart. 


ALBERT 


What  can  I  say,  except  that  I  am  sorry?     Indeed,  I  am; 
and  ready  to  eat  any  amount  of  humble  pie. 

66 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

POLLY 

What  are  we  waiting  for? 

JOE 

Our  hostess.  I  think  Mr.  Fielding  is  telling  her  our  little 
joke  on  George. 

GEORGE,  aside 

I  fancy,  from  his  expression,  that  he  is  rinding  out  how 
pleasant  and  easy  it  is  to  offer  an  explanation  to  an  incredulous 
auditor.  (To  POLLY.)  Don't  interrupt  them;  talk  to  me. 
(Aside.)  He  needs  a  little  more  punishment. 

POLLY 

No;  I  have  done  so  too  much  already.  Come  and  help  me 
get  supper.  (To  JOE  and  TOM.)  There's  a  call  for  volunteers. 

(Exeunt) 


DODO 

You  can't  say  anything.  If  you  could  only  unsay  the  mean, 
unmanly  things  you  have  said,  it  might  be  worth  while.  It 
is  easy  to  forgive  you,  but  I  cannot  forget  that  I  have  seen 
you  —  whom  I  always  thought  generous  and  brave  —  suspicious, 
petty,  spiteful.  If  you  had  tried  to  kill  Mr.  Carrington  or  me, 
I  could  have  understood  and  sympathized  with  you;  but  to 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

lash  me  with  sarcasms,  to  stab  him  with  sharp  words — it 
wasn't  nice,  it  wasn't  nice.  You  are  not  the  person  I  thought 
you  were.  You  are  a  stranger  to  me. 

ALBERT 

Try  to  put  yourself  in  my  place.     Think  over  the  situation, 
and  the  inference  one  would  naturally  draw  from  it. 

DODO 
Where  were  your  intuitions? 

ALBERT 

I  haven't  any.     I'm  only  a  poor,  dull  man,  who  has  to  de 
pend  on  his  reason  as  a  means  of  arriving  at  the  truth. 


DODO 

And  you  see  how  infallible  it  is !  No,  Mr.  Fielding,  your 
paltry  reasons  are  plausible  enough  to  convince  any  man,  no 
doubt,  but  they  cannot  heal  the  incurable  wounds  those  cruel 
words  of  yours  have — 

ALBERT 

Stop,  Dodo,  stop!  (With  emotion.)  You  call  me  cruel. 
Do  you  know  what  I  have  suffered  in  this  last  hour?  Have 
you  no  imagination,  that  you  cannot  realize  how  suspicion, 
rage,  and  jealousy  tear  the  heart  they  enter?  Think  what  it 
is  to  try  to  be  calm  and  reasonable  with  a  red  mist  before 

68 


A   SURPRISE   PARTY 

your  eyes.     Try  to  imagine  how  a  man  feels  who  is  stabbed 
by  the  hand  he  loves  best,  and  then  call  me  cruel  if  you  dare ! 

DODO 

Allie,  Allie,  forgive  me !  How  dull  I  have  been !  My  poor 
boy!  No;  I  did  not  understand — I,  who  am  so  proud  of  my 
intuitions. 

ALBERT 

What  a  brute  I  am !     I  have  made  you  cry. 

DODO 

No;  I'm  the  brute.  I've  made  you  suffer.  Do  you  really 
love  me  so  much  as  that? 

ALBERT 

Oh,  that  isn't  anything.  I  love  you  enough  to  eat  the  rare 
bit  you're  going  to  make  for  us,  and  quite  enough  to  make  me 
regret  that  I  am  "a  mere  stranger"  to  you. 

DODO 

No ;  now  we  are  really  becoming  acquainted,  and  when  you 
have  played  a  little  with  me  and  I  have  worked  with  you,  when 
you  take  me  on  some  of  your  tiresome  trips  and  tell  me  the 
things  that  worry  you,  then  we  shall  become  friends. 

ALBERT 

Very  well.  It's  a  bargain.  May  a  new  acquaintance  seal 
it  thus?  (Kisses  her  hand.) 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 
Enter  POLLY  and  GEORGE 

POLLY 

Just  look  at  that  foolish  old  couple!  (To  DODO.)  Come, 
turtles,  those  men  are  looking  for  the  corkscrew,  and  the 
cheese  is  ready. 

DODO 
Come,  children. 

(Exeunt  omnes) 

Enter  GEORGE 

GEORGE,  turning  to  window 
Oh,  blessed  window,  by  which  I  entered  Paradise! 

(Exit) 

Enter  DODO 

DODO,  going  to  wardrobe  and  patting  it 

You  dear  old  thing!  I'll  have  you  gilded  all  over.  Com 
ing — coming  directly ! 


70 


• 


DENIS  DE  BEAULIEU,  a  young  captain. 
ALAIN  DE  MALETRorr,1  the  head  of  the  house  of  Maletroit. 
HUGH  BONTEMPS,  man-at-arms  in  the  service  of  the  Sire 
de  Maletroit. 

FATHER  DOMINIC,  a  priest. 

BLANCHE  DE  MALETROIT,  niece  of  Alain. 

Time,  1429.     Place,  Chateau  Landon,  France. 


i  This  play,  with  the  permission  of  Mrs.  Stevenson,  is  founded  on  the  short  story 
entitled,  "The  Sire  de  Matetroit's  Door,"  by  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 


THE  LESSER  EVIL 


Scene 

The  hall  of  a  mediaeval  town  house.  Centre,  an  open  door 
studded  with  nails  and  ornamented  with  wrought-iron  hinges. 
Right,  a  stand  of  arms,  a  shrine  with  tapers  and  flowers,  and 
a  lamp  hanging  before  it.  Right  wall,  a  carved  door,  a  chim- 
ney  piece  with  a  shield  of  arms  above  it,  a  fire  burning  on  the 
hearth,  and  a  deeply  embrasured  window  with  leaded  case 
ments. 

Left  centre,  a  credence  with  silver  beakers  and  trenchers. 
Left  wall,  a  low  stairway  leading  up  to  a  doorway  hung  with 
arras,  a  bench  with  cushions  at  its  back.  Left  centre,  an  arm 
chair  with  a  canopy  over  it,  and  a  small  table  with  a  silver 
goblet  on  it.  Right  centre,  a  couple  of  wooden  stools.  No 
light  but  that  of  the  fire  and  the  shrine  lamp. 

As  the  curtain  rises  the  sound  of  stamping  and  shouting  is 
heard  without. 

ALAIN  DE  MALETROIT,  seated  in  the  arm-chair 
Ah-h!     (Chuckles.) 

The  fracas  increases,  swords  rattle  and  clash,  a  heavy  body 
rings  on  the  pavement  outside,  the  door  is  pushed  open,  and 
enter  backzvards,  sword  in  hand,  still  thrusting  against  his  as- 

73 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

sailants,  DENIS  DE  BEAULIEU.  He  staggers  as  though  the  door 
had  yielded  unexpectedly  behind  him.  As  it  swings  open  a 
glimpse  of  a  moon-lighted  Gothic  porch  and  a  group  of  strug 
gling  men-at-arms,  their  torches  tossing  to  and  fro,  is  seen 
outside.  Then  the  door  swings  to  again  with  a  dull,  clanging 
noise. 

DENIS 

Saved — not  too  soon.  (Listens.  Cries  outside:  "Come  out 
and  taste  our  steel  again!"  "Come  back,  cockerel!"  "Curse 
him!"  "The  devil  ny  away  with  him!"  Blows  shake  the 
door.)  I'm  breathed!  (Leans  against  the  door  and  pants.) 
I'm  scratched,  too.  (Wipes  his  sword  on  his  handkerchief 
and  bandages  a  cut  on  his  wrist  with  it,  fastening  the  knot 
with  his  teeth  and  right  hand.)  They  are  dragging  him 
away!  (The  beating  on  the  door  ceases.)  We've  made 
the  devil  of  a  mess  on  the  porch  steps.  (Looks  around, 
sheathes  his  sword  and  kneels  a  moment  at  the  shrine;  crosses 
himself.  The  noises  outside  grow  fainter,  and  the  footsteps 
retreat  in  the  distance.)  Those  gentlemen  are  in  too  high  a 
humor  to  be  long  delayed.  I  '11  wait  here ;  six  to  one  is  over 
much  for  me.  (Listens  again.)  They  are  gone.  (Peers 
through  the  darkness.)  How  dark  it  is!  (Fumbles  at  the 
door.)  I  '11  venture  out  now.  (Runs  his  hands  over  the 
door,  feels  the  edges  of  it,  passes  his  fingers  over  the  nails,  and 
handles  the  hinges.)  What!  no  sign  of  a  lock,  no  latch;  not 
even  a  keyhole.  What  ails  the  door!  (Shakes  it  violently.) 
I  can't  open  it.  (Throws  himself  against  it.)  I  might  as 
well  push  at  a  town  gate !  ( Whistles. )  I  'm  trapped.  Oh, 
for  a  light!  (Gropes  his  way  to  the  shrine,  lights  one  of  the 
tapers  by  the  name  of  the  lamp,  and  bends  his  knee  before  the 

74 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

Virgin's  picture.)  Thy  pardon,  Blessed  Lady,  my  need  is 
great.  (Returns  to  the  door,  examines  it  carefully,  presses  the 
wood  all  along  the  edges.)  Some  secret  spring!  Some  cun 
ning  piece  of  smith's  work.  I'm  a  prisoner.  (  Unsheathes  his 
sword,  and,  taper  in  hand,  goes  to  right  wall  and  looks  at  the 
arms  over  the  chimney  piece.)  The  Maletroit.  I'm  in  good 
hands.  (Crosses  stage  to  left  and  suddenly  perceives  ALAIN, 
ivho  is  smiling  and  reaching  for  his  wine-cup.) 

ALAIN,  bowing 

You  are  welcome.  I've  been  waiting  for  you  since  curfew. 
(He  raises  his  hand  and  the  tapestry  curtains  at  the  top  of  the 
staircase  are  drawn  back.  A  Hood  of  light  streams  in.) 

DENIS 

You  are  mistaken,  messire.  I  had  no  intention  of  tres 
passing  on  your  hospitality,  and  I  beg  you  to  pardon  my  un 
seemly  intrusion.  (Replaces  and  extinguishes  taper.) 

ALAIN,  indulgently 

'Tis  of  no  moment.  I  fully  expected  you,  and  the  fashion 
of  your  entrance  is  of  no  importance.  Be  seated.  We  have 
much  business  to  settle  together. 

DENIS 

I  am  an  unwilling  intruder.  It  was  an  accident  which 
forced  me  into  your  door. 

75 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

ALAIN 

The  door?  A  contrivance  of  my  own.  A  neat  bit  of 
smith's  work,  eh?  It  is  to  it  that  I  owe  the  honor  of  your 
presence  here.  So  you  were  shy  of  my  acquaintance.  Well, 
for  that  you  see  I  was  prepared.  Modesty  is  a  sweet  fault  in 
a  stripling,  and  a  rare.  It  behooved  me — my  honor  required 
that  I  should  overcome  it.  Thanks  to  my  door,  I  have.  Be 
lieve  me,  though  uninvited,  you  are  not  unexpected  or  un 
welcome. 

DENIS 

Surely  you  mistake  me  for  one  more  fortunate.  I  am  not 
the  person  you  expected.  I  am  Denis,  Damoiseau  de  Beau- 
lieu,  a  stranger  in  this  town,  and  I  entered  your  house  be 
cause — 

ALAIN 

Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  your  explanations  are  ingenious,  but 
superfluous.  Permit  me  to  retain  my  own  ideas  in  regard  to 
your  presence  here.  Meanwhile,  pray  be  seated. 

DENIS,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  seats  himself  on  a  stool  to 
the  right  of  ALAIN.  A  low  murmur  is  heard  behind  the 
door  to  right.  ALAIN  sips  his  wine  and  chuckles. 

DENIS,  politely,  after  a  pause 
You  are  of  a  merry  humor,  sir. 

ALAIN  falls  into  a  Hi  of  prolonged,  silent  laughter 

76 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

DENIS,  rising  and  putting  on  his  hat  with  a  nourish 

Are  you  drunk  or  mad?  Why  do  you  insult  me  so  wan 
tonly?  Do  you  take  me  for  a  cutpurse?  You  refuse  to  hear 
my  explanations,  you  laugh  in  my  face,  and  by  God !  I'll  bear 
it  no  longer.  Open  that  door,  or  I'll  hew  your  rat-trap  to 
pieces!  (Lays  his  hand  on  his  szvord  hilt.) 

ALAIN 

Really,  all  that!  You're  saturnine,  sir,  and  have  no  love 
of  honest  mirth.  Compose  yourself,  my  nephew. 

DENIS,  in  a  passion,  snapping  his  fingers  in  ALAIN'S  face 
Liar!     I  am  no  kinsman  of  yours. 

ALAIN,  in  a  white  nt  of  rage,  his  voice  hoarse  and 
shaken  with  fury 

Be  quiet,  you  brawler!  Do  you  suppose  that  when  I  set 
my  trap  I  did  not  post  my  rangers  within  call?  Stir  one 
step,  and  I'll  have  you  bound  to  your  seat  with  your  own 
sword-belt.  (Lowering  and  softening  his  voice.)  Sit  quietly 
in  your  place,  and  we'll  despatch  our  affairs  without  heat  or 
noise.  The  choice  is  yours,  sir. 

DENIS,  after  looking  helplessly  about  him,  shakes  his 
head  and  sits  down 

I  am  a  prisoner,  then ?     (Aside.)    He's  mad. 

77 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

Enter  FATHER  DOMINIC  from  door  on  right,  stares  at 
DENIS  and  whispers  to  ALAIN 

ALAIN 

How  is  it  with  her? 

DOMINIC 

She  has  sobbed  herself  into  submission. 

ALAIN 

Poor  lamb!  Tis  a  pity  of  her.  A  comely  boy,  well  born, 
and  of  her  own  picking,  too.  She's  over  nice. 

DOMINIC 

It  is  a  strange  bridal,  messire.  Have  patience  with  a  trifle 
of  maidenly  coyness. 

ALAIN 

Much  coyness  she  showed  when  she  began  the  game.  Now 
she  shall  play  it  out.  (Turning  to  DENIS.)  Monsieur  de 
Beaulieu,  my  niece  has  been  waiting  for  you.  She  grows  im 
patient.  Permit  me  to  fetch  her. 

DENIS  bows  and  rises.     ALAIN  leaves  the  hall  by  door  on 
right,  and  reenters,  dragging,  rather  than  leading,  BLANCHE 

DE  MALETROIT. 

ALAIN,  sweetly 

A  little  shamefaced,  you  see.  It  is  such  an  innocent  dove! 
Here  is  your  friend,  my  dear.  Wish  him  good  evening. 

78 


; 


j  !    \ 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

BLANCHE  still  holds  down  her  head.  ALAIN  places  his  hand 
under  her  chin  and  raises  it  by  force.  She  looks  at  DENIS, 
stares  and  gasps,  then,  with  a  scream,  sinks  upon  her  knees. 

BLANCHE 

It  is  not  he!     Uncle,  it  is  not  he! 

ALAIN 

Naturally,  it  isn't.  Of  course  you  never  clapped  eyes  on 
him  before.  He's  an  utter  stranger,  isn't  he?  and  you  don't 
even  know  his  name? 

BLANCHE,  wringing  her  hands 

My  uncle,  I  have  never  seen  this  man  before.  Oh,  sir,  help 
me !  Tell  him  the  truth. 

DENIS,  aside 

She's  mad,  too.  (Aloud.)  As  God  lives,  sir,  I  have  never 
seen  Mademoiselle  before! 

ALAIN,  shrugging  his  shoulders 

How  unfortunate !  But  then  these  hurried  marriages  are  not 
more  miserable  than  the  ceremonious  variety.  Come,  bride 
groom,  I  will  give  you  two  hours  in  which  to  make  my  niece's 
acquaintance.  Be  brisk  with  your  wooing,  for  Father  Dom 
inic  is  waiting. 

79 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

BLANCHE,  rising  and  seizing  him  by  the  sleeve 

This  is  a  sorry  jest.  Am  I  not  punished  enough?  Surely, 
you  would  not  thrust  me  on  this  stranger  ?  Pity  me  and  him. 
You  must  believe  me  when  I  swear  to  you  by  my  dead  father's 
soul  that  I  do  not  know  him — that  he  is  not  the  man. 

ALAIN,  roughly  disengaging  his  sleeve 

And  what  is  that  to  me?  (Goes  towards  the  door;  before 
ascending  the  steps  turns  towards  her.)  My  business,  as 
head  of  the  family  you  have  disgraced,  is  to  find  you  a  hus 
band  at  once.  I  have  done  so.  Make  the  most  of  him.  On 
my  soul,  I  believe  that  he  is  your  own  choice;  if  not,  that's 
his  affair  and  yours.  Mistress,  you  have  lost  the  right  to 
question  me,  to  pick  and  choose.  I  am  too  soft;  instead  of 
bundling  you  into  a  convent  for  the  rest  of  your  days,  I  have 
found  your  sneaking  lover  for  you,  and  you  had  best  thank 
God  for  a  kind  uncle. 

(Exeunt  left  door  ALAIN  and  FATHER  DOMINIC) 

BLANCHE,  raising  her  bent  head  and  turning  angrily  to  DENIS 
And  what,  sir,  may  be  the  meaning  of  all  this? 

DENIS 

God  knows.  I  am  a  prisoner  in  this  house,  which  seems 
full  of  mad  people.  I  know  nothing,  and  I  understand  nothing 
of  it  all. 

80 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

BLANCHE 

And  what  brought  you  here? 

DENIS 

The  foul  fiend,  I  think.  I  came  to  town  to-night  on  busi 
ness  of  my  own — a  heritage — but  why  speak  of  that?  I  had 
an  escort  of  five  lances,  two  days'  leave  of  absence,  and  a  safe- 
conduct  from  my  commander. 

BLANCHE 

A  safe-conduct?  Did  you  think  that  would  protect  you  in 
this  lawless  place,  filled  with  roystering  men-at-arms?  The 
English  and  the  Burgundians  are  both  here,  and  God  alone 
can  tell  which  are  the  harder  drinkers  or  the  fiercer  brawlers. 

DENIS 

Of  course,  I  knew  I  ran  a  certain  risk;  but  a  soldier  takes 
chances. 

BLANCHE 

Pardon  me,  you  seem  so  young. 

DENIS,  grandly 

Indeed,  but  a  young  man  may  be  an  old  soldier. 

81 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BLANCHE,  courtesying 

I  crave  a  veteran's  forgiveness.  Will  your  venerability 
continue  ? 

DENIS 

Willingly.  I  put  up  at  the  Tete  d'Or.  After  supper,  when 
I  asked  the  way  to  my  late  kinsman's  house,  mine  host  prayed 
me  to  remain  by  the  fire.  The  town  is  not  safe  after  curfew, 
he  assured  me. 

BLANCHE 

He  was  a  wise  man ;  of  course  you  did  not  follow  his  advice  ? 

DENIS 

You  are  a  wise  woman;  of  course  I  did  not.  After  a  long 
search,  I  finally  found  the  house,  close-barred  and  black  as  a 
tomb.  After  half  an  hour  of  knocking  and  shouting  and  call 
ing  down  the  curses  of  the  whole  drowsy  neighborhood,  which 
apparently  goes  to  roost  with  its  own  chickens,  I  gave  up  my 
quest  and  tried  to  return  to  the  inn. 

BLANCHE 

And  you  no  doubt  lost  your  way  in  our  winding  streets. 

DENIS 

Pardi,  I  did  at  once.  'Tis  a  godless  town,  this — no  images, 
no  shrine  lamps  to  guide  a  poor  sinner  on  his  way.  I  had 

82 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

more  than  once  to  lament  the  decay  of  devotion  in  these  parts. 
Not  a  glimmer  of  light  anywhere. 

BLANCHE 

I  won't  defend  our  municipal  regulations.     Go  on. 

DENIS 

I  groped  on,  knowing  that  I  must  keep  climbing  the  hill, 
and  as  I  stumbled  out  of  a  tangle  of  black  alleys  into  the  space 
before  your  porch,  I  saw  lights  and  heard  voices.  It  was  a 
patrol  of  men-at-arms,  who  had  been  making  free  with  the 
wine-bowl,  going  the  rounds. 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  they  might  have  killed  you  like  a  dog ! 

DENIS 

Not  quite  so  easily,  I  hope.  But  they  were  in  no  mood  to 
be  particular  about  safe-conducts.  Hoping  that  their  own 
torches  would  hide  me  from  them,  I  ran  into  your  porch,  but 
my  foot  rolled  on  a  pebble,  my  sword  rang  against  the  stones, 
and  they  were  on  me  in  a  trice.  Luckily  for  me,  the  stair  is 
narrow,  and  I  managed  to  free  my  sword  in  time  to  trip  up 
the  others  with  the  bodies  of  the  two  who  first  attacked  me. 
Then  I  set  my  back  against  your  door,  which  yielded.  I 
darted  in,  it  closed  behind  me — and  you  know  the  rest. 

83 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BLANCHE 

No ;  but  I  can  guess.     My  uncle  was  waiting  for  you  here. 

DENIS 

So  he  assured  me  after  I  had  found  out  that  the  door 
wouldn't  open  again.  And  then  he  insisted  that  I  should  make 
your  acquaintance.  Perhaps  you  will  follow  my  example,  and 
tell  me  the  answer  to  all  these  riddles. 

BLANCHE 

My  uncle   mistakes   you   for  another   man — one   whom — 

whom  he  has  never  seen — who  wrote  me  a  letter.     The  trap 

was  set  for  him ;  you  have  fallen  into  it.     I  would  tell  you  all 

—indeed,  you  have  a  right  to  know ;  but  will  you  not  spare  me 

the  shame  of  it — the —     (Hides  her  face  in  her  hands.) 

DENIS 

I  have  no  rights  but  those  you  give  me.  It  seems  we  are 
companions  in  evil  fortune.  Can  I  not  help  you? 

BLANCHE 

Bless  you  for  that  kind  word !  No,  there  is  no  help  for  me. 
I  am  justly  punished  for  my  own  folly.  But  oh,  Monsieur  de 
Beaulieu,  do  not  think  too  badly  of  me.  I  have  been  foolish, 
imprudent,  but  not  so  very  wicked.  I  still  know  the  meaning 
of  honor.  I  am — I  was  a  Maletroit.  You  shall  question  me, 

84 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

if  you  will,  as  it  is  through  my  fault  that  you  are  in  such  an 
evil  case. 

DENIS 

Mademoiselle,  keep  your  secret.  You  have  given  me  your 
confidence;  it  remains  for  me  to  prove  myself  worthy  of  it. 
Is  Messire  de  Maletroit  within?  (Pointing  to  the  door  left.) 

BLANCHE 

You  would  speak — argue  with  him?  You  might  as  well 
plead  with  yonder  wall. 

DENIS 

Will  it  please  you  to  fetch  him  here? 

BLANCHE,  going  out  of  door  left  and  turning 
You'll  never  move  him. 

(Exit  BLANCHE) 

Reenter  BLANCHE  and  ALAIN,  who  greets  DENIS  with  an 
ironical  obeisance 

DENIS,  taking  BLANCHE'S  hand  and  leading  her  up  to  ALAIN 

Messire  de  Maletroit,  in  offering  me  the  hand  of  your  niece 
you  have  done  me  undeserved  honor,  and  if  her  heart  were 
free  to  go  with  it  I  should  joy  in  accepting  it.  But  I  cannot 
profit  by  a  misunderstanding  which  has  placed  her  at  my  dis 
cretion.  Therefore,  I  decline  the  hand  of  Mademoiselle. 

85 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

ALAIN,  smiling,  after  a  long  silence 

There  is  indeed  a  misunderstanding,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu. 
You  imagine  yourself  possessed  of  a  freedom  of  choice  which 
is  not  yours.  Follow  me,  I  pray  you,  to  this  window.  (Goes, 
followed  by  DENIS,  to  the  window  on  right  and  opens  the 
casement.)  You  notice  the  stout  rope  fastened  to  the  torch- 
holder.  If  you  continue  to  decline  the  alliance  I  offer  you  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  have  you  hanged  here  at  sunrise.  It  will 
annoy  me,  for  you  are  far  more  useful  to  me  as  a  live  groom 
that  as  a  dead  fool.  The  honor  of  my  house  has  been  blown 
upon.  I  am  convinced  that  you  are  the  culprit.  If  you  are  not, 
so  much  the  worse  for  you,  as  you  now  know  our  shameful 
secret,  and  I  should  not  be  the  loving  uncle  and  guardian 
(sneering)  that  I  am  if  I  allowed  my  sweet  Blanche  to  be 
flouted.  Choose,  then,  a  bridal  or  a  halter. 

A  silence.    DENIS  looks  fiercely  at  ALAIN  and  draws 
his  sword 

DENIS 

I  believe  there  are  more  gentlemanly  ways  of  settling  such 
difficulties.  You  wear  a  sword,  and  have  used  it  well. 

ALAIN,  after  crossing  to  left,  raising  the  arras  and 
showing  the  passage  filled  with  men-at-arms 

When  I  was  a  little  younger  I  should  have  been  delighted 
to  honor  you,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  but  now  I  am  too  old. 
Let  your  pinking-iron  lie.  I  have  provided  against  all  emer- 

86 


HM  F~F-C 

_v_. 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

gencies.  You  can  be  riddled  with  pikes,  if  you  prefer  it  to 
hanging.  But,  Sir  Impetuosity,  I  counsel  you  to  wait  until 
sunrise.  You  may  change  your  mind — and  my  niece  gains  on 
acquaintance.  Her  complexion  is  really  finer  by  daylight. 
And  she  evidently  wants  to  speak  with  you.  (Looking  at 
BLANCHE,  who  makes  an  imploring  gesture  to  DENIS.)  I  am 
debonair,  and  if  you  will  promise  to  remain  quietly  here  with 
Mademoiselle,  I'll  allow  you  two  hours  in  which  to  decide  on 
your  fate. 

DENIS 

I  give  you  my  word  of  honor. 

(Exit  ALAIN,  bowing  and  smiling,  followed  by 
the  men-at-arms) 

DENIS 

Is  this  some  grisly  jest?  Is  he  a  madman,  and  am  I  to  die 
like  a  cutpurse — I,  a  noble  and  a  soldier? 

BLANCHE,  running  to  DENIS,  her  hands  extended 

It  is  all  real.  Nothing  can  turn  my  uncle  from  his  pur 
pose.  But  you  shall  not  die;  you  shall  marry  me,  after  all. 

DENIS,  stiffly 

I  am  not  so  afraid  of  death  as  you  seem  to  believe,  nor  so 
anxious  to  snatch  at  life  at  any  cost  to  myself  or  others.  It  is 
not  death  that  I  dread ;  it  is  the  dishonor  of  the  manner  of  it. 

87 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


BLANCHE 

Oh !  I  see  you  are  no  coward.  It  is  for  my  own  sake.  I 
could  not  bear  to  have  you  slain  for  such  a  scruple. 

DENIS,  coldly 

I  fear  that,  in  your  haste  to  save  my  life,  Mademoiselle,  you 
are  forgetting  what  you  owe  to  a  happier  man. 

BLANCHE  goes  towards  door  on  right  with  bent  head; 
at  the  door  she  turns 

Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  do  not  spoil  a  noble  act  by  base 
words.  You  strike  at  one  who  is  unarmed.  I  cannot  retort 
on  you,  but  I'll  go  pray  for  you,  sir. 

(Exit) 

DENIS 

What  a  churl  I  am !  Mademoiselle !  (Goes  after  her,  stops 
and  shrugs  his  shoulders.) 

Reenter  BLANCHE 
You  called  me? 

DENIS 

Yes,  and  then  repented  of  so  doing. 

BLANCHE 

Why? 

88 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

DENIS 

Because  I  wanted  to  ask  your  forgiveness,  and  I  know  how 
useless  it  is  to  do  so. 

BLANCHE,  giving  him  her  hand 

It  is  already  given.  How  could  it  be  otherwise?  Think 
what  you  are  doing  for  me,  for  my  misdeeds.  (Begins  to  cry.) 

DENIS,  going  to  her 

Do  not  punish  me  so  severely,  and  pardon  me  if  I  seemed 
vexed  at  first.  Death  have  I  often  affronted  in  fight  and 
melee ;  but  the  sight  of  that  rope — and  when  your  uncle  knows 
that  I  am  a  gentleman — it's  really  too  bad! 

BLANCHE 

I  know  that  you  are  brave  and  generous.  What  I  zvant 
to  know  is  whether  I  can  serve  you  now — or  afterwards  (with 
a  sob). 

DENIS 

Most  certainly.  Let  me  sit  beside  you,  as  though  I  were 
a  friend,  instead  of  a  foolish  intruder.  Help  me  to  forget 
how  we  are  circumstanced. 

BLANCHE,  seating  herself  in  the  state  chair  and  motioning 
him  to  a  place  beside  her,  zvhich  he  does  not  take 

You  are  gallant,  sir,  very  gallant — and  it  somehow  pains 
me.  In  such  a  sad  plight  as  ours  all  ceremony  should  be 

89 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

waived.     Ah,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu!     (Covers  her  face  and 
weeps. ) 

DENIS,  taking  her  hand 

Mademoiselle,  reflect  on  the  little  time  I  have  before  me, 
and  the  great  bitterness  into  which  I  am  cast  by  the  sight  of 
your  tears.  Spare  me  the  spectacle  of  what  I  cannot  cure, 
even  with  the  sacrifice  of  my  life. 

BLANCHE,  rising 

A  truce  to  gallantry,  I  pray  you.  (Wipes  her  eyes.)  I 
am  very  selfish.  I  will  be  braver,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  for 
your  sake.  But  think  if  I  can  do  you  no  service  in  the  future 
— if  you  have  no  friends  to  whom  I  could  carry  your  adieux. 
Put  it  in  my  power  to  do  something  more  for  you  than  weep. 

DENIS 

My  mother  is  married  again,  and  has  a  young  family  to  care 
for.  My  brother  Guichard  will  inherit  my  fiefs  and  my  sword. 
Will  you  keep  these  for  him?  (Takes  off  his  sword  and  ring 
and  hands  them  to  her.  She  puts  on  the  ring,  takes  the  sword 
reverently,  and  presses  her  lips  to  it.  DENIS  turns  suddenly 
and  sees  her  bending  over  it.) 

BLANCHE 

I  cannot  see  the  device.  My  eyes  are  dim.  (Passes  her 
hand  over  them,  then  reads:)  "Do  not  draw  me  without  cause; 
do  not  sheathe  me  without  honor."  Tis  a  brave  motto. 
(Crosses  to  right  and  places  the  sword  before  the  shrine.) 

90 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 


DENIS 

And  this  reliquary,  'tis  the  dearest  thing  that  I  call  mine. 
Look !  Therein  is  a  bit  of  the  arrow  which  pierced  the  blessed 
Saint  Sebastian.  Twice  has  it  saved  me — once  from  an  Eng 
lish  shaft  and  again  from  the  tertian  ague,  when  we  lay  in  the 
ditches  before  Paris.  Send  it,  if  you  can,  to  Diane  de  Montre- 
cour,  Lady  of  Roche  Vaillante,  who  is  now  with  the  king  at 
Orleans.  (Takes  the  reliquary  from  his  neck,  kisses  it  de 
voutly,  and  gives  it  to  BLANCHE.) 

BLANCHE 

You  love  her? 

DENIS 

With  all  my  heart.  She  is  the  only  woman  in  France  who 
will  wear  mourning  for  me. 

BLANCHE 

Is  she  married? 

DENIS 
Yes,  unhappily. 

BLANCHE 

And  she  is  young? 

DENIS 
She  is  just  nineteen. 

BLANCHE 

And  beautiful,  of  course?     I  know  she  is  beautiful. 


; 


^^**»*xa**fl9^j9«S5rJ 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

BLANCHE 

You  forget  Blanche  de  Maletroit. 

DENIS 

You  have  a  sweet  nature,  Mademoiselle,  and  are  pleased  to 
estimate  a  little  service  far  beyond  its  worth. 

BLANCHE,  with  exaltation 

It  is  not  that.  You  mistake  me  if  you  believe  I  am  always 
thinking  of  myself.  I  say  so  because  you  are  the  noblest  man 
I  have  ever  met — because  I  recognize  in  you  a  dauntless  spirit. 

DENIS,  bitterly 

And  yet  here  I  die  in  a  mouse-trap,  with  no  more  noise 
about  it  than  my  own  squeaking — and  for  a  woman  who  loves 
another  man. 

BLANCHE 

No,  no;  you  mistake.  I  never  loved  him.  If  I  could  sum 
mon  courage  to  tell  you  all !  Will  you  hear  me  ?  Then  sit, 
turn  your  face  from  me,  and  I'll  kneel  here  as  though  I  were 
at  confession  and  tell  you  as  truly  as  though  I  spoke  before 
God's  vicar.  And  never  look  at  me,  or  I'll  lose  heart. 

DENIS 

As  you  will.  Need  I  take  precious  time  to  assure  you  how 
dear  this  confidence  is  to  me? 

93 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 
DENIS  sits  in  state  chair  and  she  kneels  beside  it 


BLANCHE 

I  am  an  orphan,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  the  last  of  the  Male- 
troit,  and  I  should  have  been  a  boy.  My  uncle  has  always 
hated  me,  and  I  have  been  lonely  and  unhappy  all  my  short  life. 
Three  months  ago,  in  church,  a  young  captain  began  to  stand 
near  me,  and  I  could  see  that  I  pleased  him.  I  was  so  glad 
that  any  one  should  care  for  me  that  when  he  passed  me  a 
letter  I  took  it  home  with  me  and  read  it — read  it  over  and 
over  again.  Since  that  time  he  has  written  many.  He  was 
always  anxious  to  speak  with  me,  poor  fellow!  and  kept  ask 
ing  me  to  leave  the  door  open  some  evening,  that  we  might 
talk  together  on  the  stairs.  How  my  uncle  came  to  suspect 
me,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  this  morning,  as  we  came  from  mass, 
he  took  my  hand  in  his,  forced  it  open,  and  read  my  little 
billet.  It  contained  another  request  to  have  the  door  left  open, 
and  this  has  been  the  ruin  of  us  all.  Uncle  kept  me  in  my 
room  till  evening,  and  when  he  could  not  force  me  to  tell  the 
captain's  name  he  set  this  snare  for  him,  into  which  you  have 
fallen.  Ah,  how  you  must  despise  me ! 

DENIS,  seizing  BLANCHE'S  hands  and  looking  into  her  eyes 
And  is  this  all  ? 

BLANCHE,  staring  at  him 

Is  it  not  enough? 

94 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

DENIS,  rising  and  helping  her  to  rise 
And  you  do  not  love  him? 

BLANCHE 

I  swear  it.  I  was  lonely  and  unhappy,  and  he  seemed  kind 
and  gay. 

DENIS 

You  have  made  me  very  happy,  and  now  I  have  but  one 
regret. 

BLANCHE 

And  that  is? 

DENIS 

That  I  must  leave  the  happy  world  which  holds  you. 

BLANCHE 

This  is  mockery ! — after  what  you  have  just  heard.  What ! 
no  hard  terms,  no  names  that  stain  as  well  as  strike?  Begin 
at  once — don't  keep  me  in  suspense — and  let  me  know  that  I 
have  lost  my  only  friend. 

DENIS,  kissing  her  hand 

Dear  lady — friend,  if  so  indeed  I  may  call  you — forgive  me. 
I  might  have  known  that  you  and  innocence  were  comrades. 
And  you  did  not  love  him,  and  you  don't  regret  that  my  rude 
entrance  here  has  bereft  you  of  a  bridegroom  ? 

95 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BLANCHE 

Hear  me  to  the  end,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu.  When  I  asked 
you  to  marry  me,  it  was  because  I  respected  and  admired  and 
loved  you  with  my  whole  soul  from  the  moment  that  you  took 
my  part  against  my  uncle.  If  you  had  seen  yourself  and  how 
noble  you  looked,  you  would  pity  rather  than  despise  me.  You 
were  like  the  glorious  warrior  angels — so  brave,  so  pitiful 
to  poor,  guilty  me.  Of  course,  I  would  not  dare  to  bare  my 
heart  to  you,  had  I  not  vowed  when  you  refused  me  that  I 
would  never  marry  you,  even  should  you  repent  of  your  first 
denial.  I  also  am  too  proud  to  force  myself  upon  you,  Mon 
sieur  de  Beaulieu. 

DENIS 
It  is  a  small  love  that  shies  at  a  little  pride. 

The  daylight  comes  in  through  the  casement 

BLANCHE,  noticing  it  with  a  shudder 
Oh!  what  shall  I  do?     (Running  towards  him.) 


DENIS,  leading  her  to  the  state  chair  and  seating 
himself  beside  her 

Lighten  my  last  moments  for  me  like  a  true  and  tried  com 
rade.  Let  us  talk  of  pleasant  things.  Help  me  to  forget  that 
I  must  soon  leave  you.  Yours  is  a  lonely  life,  you  tell  me? 

96 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 


BLANCHE 

I  thought  we  were  to  talk  of  pleasant  things.  What's  that? 
(Looking  at  the  bandage  on  his  hand  and  rising.)  You  are 
hurt — wounded,  and  I  have  babbled  on  unheeding.  May  I 
not  be  your  leech  ?  I  have  some  skill  in  surgery. 

DENIS 

It's  not  worth  your  pains;  only  a  cut  which  gives  me  no 
concern.  But  if  you  will.  (Holds  out  his  hand  to  her.) 

BLANCHE 

A  cut!  It  is  a  deep,  cruel  gash.  (Takes  off  his  handker 
chief  and  replaces  it  by  her  own,  putting  his  furtively  in  her 
pouch.  Takes  from  the  credence  a  silver  box  and  anoints  the 
bandage.)  This  is  a  balm  from  Padua,  made  by  one  Maestro 
Peter,  and  so  prompt  to  heal  that  by  to-morrow  night — 
(Stops  and  grasps  the  chair.) 

DENIS 

You're  faint.  Oh,  the  brave  surgeon  to  turn  sick  at  the 
sight  of  blood!  Your  own,  poor  coward,  is  deserting  your 
cheeks.  Courage,  courage,  most  valiant  carver  of  flesh! 
(Seats  her  in  the  chair  and  goes  to  credence.  Pours  out  a 
beaker  of  wine  and  gives  it  to  her.  She  drinks.) 

BLANCHE 

Won't  you  pledge  me?     (Hands  him  back  the  beaker.) 

97 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

• 

DENIS 

To  our  next  meeting!     (Drinks.) 

BLANCHE 

O  my  dear  champion,  we  shall  meet  again !  He  who  lays 
down  his  life  for  another  wins  thereby  a  place  in  paradise,  and 
when  my  poor  little  soul  comes  a-knocking  timidly  at  heaven's 
gate  you'll  plead  for  me,  my  knight,  and  your  great  sacrifice 
will  save  us  both.  Give  me  the  cup.  To  our  next  meeting! 
(She  touches  it  to  her  lips  and  then  dashes  it  down,  break 
ing  it.) 

'A  silence 

DENIS,  in  a  rather  forced  tone 
Have  you  a  balm  to  heal  the  wounds  you  make? 

BLANCHE 

No ;  nor  to  salve  those  you  inflict  by  use  of  these  strained 
courtesies.  The  language  of  gallantry  here,  in  this  awful 
strait,  seems  like  a  mockery.  Be  more  simple  with  me,  I 
entreat  you! 

DENIS 

May  not  real  feeling  borrow  the  terms  of  gallantry,  and  sin 
cerity  masquerade  as  compliment? 

98 


4 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 


BLANCHE 

I  know  little  of  such  matters.  I  am  a  rustical,  unlessoned 
hermit,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu.  My  only  friends  are  my  dogs 
and  my  horses,  my  only  pleasure  is  in  reading,  and  my  only 
companion  is  Dame  Alyse,  who  was  young  when  my  uncle 
was  a  squire.  Day  after  day  we  sit  a-stitching  of  tapestries. 
Last  year  'twas  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents — a  most  en 
livening  piece.  This  year  'tis  the  Sacrifice  of  Isaac.  I  work 
the  angel;  Dame  Alyse  does  the  ram. 


DENIS 
And  when  you're  weary  of  that? 

BLANCHE 

Then  we  change  about — Dame  Alyse  does  the  angel,  and  I 
do  the  ram. 

DENIS 

Now,  here's  variety !     And  then  you  read — romances  ? 

BLANCHE 

Yes.     I  love  them  dearly — not  so  well  as  hawking,  though. 

DENIS 
You  like  hunting,  too? 

99 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BLANCHE,  with  enthusiasm 

Better  than  aught  else.  Ah,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  next 
summer  you  must  come  to  Joyeuse.  Such  coursing  as  we  have 
there!  And  I  will  match  my  Roland  against  any  goshawk 
in  your  mews  for  what  you  will — 

DENIS  glances  at  the  ivindow  and  smiles  at  her; 
she  stops  in  confusion 

I  wish  I  could.  Take  this  for  your  falcon's  collar,  and  when 
he  rises  into  the  blue  you'll  think  of  a  friend  who  would  fain 
have  watched  him  with  you.  (He  cuts  off  a  few  plaques  from 
his  gold  chain.) 

BLANCHE 

But  you'll  write  me  a  device  on  it. 

DENIS 

I'm  no  minstrel,  and  time  lacks  for  rhyming,  but  I'll  try. 
(Scratches  on  the  inside  of  the  plaques  with  his  dagger.) 

BLANCHE,  reading  the  scratched  lines 

"  I  am  Roland  the  gerfalcon. 

Should  you  find  me,  have  the  grace 
To  return  me  to  my  mistress  — 
For  reward  look  on  her  face." 

'Tis  a  pretty  posy,  but  more  suited  for  a  brass  collar  than 
one  of  gold,  and  I  rejoice,  for  my  blushes'  sake,  that  it  is 
writ  on  the  under  side. 

100 


THE   LESSER   EVIL ,  /^ 


DENIS 

Since  you  love  venery,  you  must  read  a  most  rare  book 
of  mine,  written  by  Dame  Juliana's  self  and  covered  with  notes 
by  Phoebus'  own  hand.  I  will  send  it  you —  (Stops  and 
shakes  his  head.) 

BLANCHE,  rising  and  taking  both  his  hands 

It  is  folly  to  feign.  We  cannot  forget  that  Death  is  wait 
ing  outside.  Surely  there  must  be  some  way  out  of  this. 

DENIS 

My  way  is  through  the  loop  in  yonder  rope.  A  villain's 
death  for  one  nobly  born. 

A  cock  crows  in  the  distance 

BLANCHE 

Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  make  your  peace  with  Heaven  while 
I  watch  here.  It  is  almost  morning.  Go  kneel  for  an  Ave's 
space  before  the  altar.  You  should  not  die  unshriven. 

DENIS 
You'll  wait  here  for  me?     You'll  not  desert  me? 

BLANCHE 

Y'ou  ask  me  that?  Why,  wain  ropes  could  not  drag  me 
hence ! 

101 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DENIS 

Then  I  go;  but  you'll  not  leave  me!  I  shall  miss  you  so. 
(Exit  into  chapel.) 

BLANCHE 

He's  gone!  I  must  be  quick.  (Raises  the  arras  and  beck 
ons.  )  Hist-st !  Hugh,  Hugh !  Come  here — softly — sh ! 

Enter  HUGH 

Hugh,  you  have  always  been  kind  to  me,  ever  since  I  came 
here  a  little  orphaned  child.  Do  you  remember  how  I  used  to 
ride  on  your  sword  and  dress  your  dagger  for  a  doll?  Do 
you  remember? 

HUGH 
V 

'Deed  I  do,  mistress.    You  were  a  mischievous  little  mawkin. 

BLANCHE 

And  'twas  you  taught  me  to  ride,  Hugh,  and  with  you  I 
made  my  first  cast  with  a  hawk.  You  were  always  patient 
with  me,  weren't  you?  and  as  kind  as  you  were  brave — and 
handsome. 

HUGH 

What  is  it?     What  am  I  to  do  for  you,  mistress? 

BLANCHE 

Only  this.  You  alone  guard  the  secret  stair.  Uncle  trusts 
you  as  he  trusts  no  other.  Take  this  ring  (showing  him 

1 02 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

DENIS'S  ring)  to  the  host  of  the  Tete  d'Or.  Bid  him  send 
here  at  once  the  five  lances  of  'Monsieur  de  Beaulieu.  Lead 
them  hither  by  the  covered  way.  Save  a  gallant  gentleman's 
life,  and  earn  the  eternal  gratitude  of  Blanche  de  Maletroit. 

HUGH 
Now  is  that  all?     'Tis  only  rank  treason. 

BLANCHE 

No;  it  is  mercy;  you  save  an  innocent  man  from  a  vile 
death. 

HUGH 
And  what  is  to  become  of  me  after  I  have  played  the  traitor  ? 

BLANCHE 

Monsieur  de  Beaulieu  will  reward  you  richly,  and  you  shall 
have  every  jewel  in  my  casket.  (Takes  off  a  chain  and  tries 
to  put  it  around  his  neck.  He  prevents  her. ) 

HUGH 

No,  thank  you,  little  lady.  I'm  a  plain  man,  and  I  hardly 
ever  wear  jewels.  How  would  I  appear  in  ear-bobs?  Think 
you  a  bracelet  would  set  off  this  wrist? 

BLANCHE 

How  can  you  jest? 

103 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

HUGH,  gravely 

Sweet  mistress,  in  this  matter  I  cannot  serve  you.  I  would 
fight  for  you,  lie  for  you,  spill  my  blood  for  you,  but  turn 
traitor  to  the  man  whose  bread  I  have  eaten — betray  his  trust 
in  me — I  can't  do  that. 


BLANCHE 

Hugh,  you  were  my  last  hope.     Now  I  am  indeed  forlorn! 
( Groans. ) 


HUGH,  taking  off  his  sword  and  presenting  it  to  her 

Here,  take  my  sword  and  run  me  through  the  heart,  but 
don't  make  me  a  wretch. 


BLANCHE,  taking  the  sword  and  lunging  at  him 

Your  heart's  too  hard;  it  would  turn  the  steel.  I  know  a 
better  way  to  have  at  it.  (Throws  down  the  sword  and  em 
braces  him.)  Hugh,  how  can  we  save  him?  My  learning  is 
at  fault.  In  all  the  tales  I've  read  there  is  always  a  hench 
man  to  be  bribed,  a  page  to  smuggle  a  billet,  a  seneschal  to 
be  tricked — some  way  out  of  the  trap;  but  here  everybody  is 
so  virtuous!  A  disguise  might — 


HUGH 

I  wouldn't  try  changing  clothes  with  him  if  I  were  you. 

104 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 


BLANCHE 


Oh,  why  are  you  so  honest,  so  loyal?  It's  horrible!  The 
time  is  going — going;  what  shall  I  do? 

HUGH 

Why,  marry  him,  of  course,  and  end  all  this  pother. 
We're  all  tired  of  it,  and  we  want  to  get  out  of  harness  and 
go  to  bed. 

BLANCHE 

But  he  won't  have  me,  Hugh? 

HUGH 

He  won't  have  you?  (Starts  for  the  door.)  Just  let  me 
get  at  him!  (BLANCHE  stops  him.) 

BLANCHE 

He  doesn't  love  me,  Hugh. 

HUGH 

Well,  he  will  when  I  have  finished  with  him — that  is,  what 
there  is  left  of  him  will. 

BLANCHE 

Dear  Hugh,  you  don't  understand.  I  won't  have  him, 
either,  though  (whispering)  I  love  him  dearly. 

105 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

HUGH 

The  ways  of  gentlefolk  are  past  finding  out.  You  love 
him,  and  yet  when  you  have  him  fast  between  the  priest  and 
the  hangman  you  let  him  go. 

BLANCHE 

But  honor  and  maiden  pride  forbid  that — 

HUGH 

That's  noble  frippery,  but  not  for  my  wear.  (Takes  her 
hand.)  Now,  leave  honor  by,  doff  maiden  pride  and  put  on 
common  sense.  You  love  him,  you  can  marry  him,  and  you 
give  him  to  the  hangman.  Fie  on  such  honor! 

BLANCHE 

But  he  doesn't  love  me! 

HUGH,  angrily 

Then  he  has  neither  ears,  eyes,  nor  heart,  and  isn't  worth 
the  saving.  And  you  won't  let  me  enlighten  him  with  a  proper 
belting?  Well,  if  he  doesn't  love  you,  'tis  your  fault. 

BLANCHE 

My  fault? 

HUGH 

Yes,  yours. 

1 06 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 


BLANCHE 

What  is  it?     Am  I  ugly,  shrewish,  dull,  ill  clad?     Tell  me; 
don't  spare  me. 

HUGH 

% 

No;  you're  none  of  those.     I'll  tell  you  in  a  word.     You 
see,  you  have  no —     You  don't —     You  are  not — 


BLANCHE 

It  is  most  subtly  defined,  Hugh,  but  I  fear  my  understand 
ing  is  at  fault.  Is  my  defect  so  grave  that  you  cannot  find 
a  name  for  it? 

HUGH 

No,  no.  This  talking  is  harder  work  than  trench-digging. 
You  are — well,  we  know  that  you  are  lovely,  kind,  and  brave, 
but — what  you  need  is  a  little  more — 


BLANCHE 

Yes,  yes;  a  little  more — ? 

HUGH 

Just  a  touch,  you  know;  not  too  much,  but  a  trifle.  It  will 
set  you  off — give  you  an  air — a  er — er — a  you-know-what. 
Oh,  I  am  beggared  in  words! 

107 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  Hugh,  what  do  you  mean? 

HUGH 

It's  all  you  need  to  bewitch  a  man,  were  he  Saint  Anthony 
himself.  Now  you  have  a  small  quarter  of  an  hour  in  which  to 
practise  on  him.  (Pointing  to  the  chapel  door.)  In  with 
you — begin !  (Leads  her  towards  the  door.) 

BLANCHE,  in  distress 

Don't  leave  me  till  you've  shown  me  how.  You  were  wont 
to  talk  plainly.  Tell  me  straightly,  what  is  it  I  lack,  dear 
Hugh? 

HUGH 

Well !  This  is  a  new  trade  for  me.  Teach  kittens  to  play, 
doves  to  be  white,  lambs  to  frisk,  and  girls  to  coquette.  Mis 
tress,  with  your  leave,  you're  more  the  stripling  than  the  maid. 
When  you  speak  to  a  man  you  look  him  straight  in  the  eye. 
Now,  your  gentlewoman  ogles  and  looks  down,  thus — and 
bites  her  lip,  and  looks  again  side  wise,  and  then  away  with  a 
frown.  When  you  walk  you  go  straightly,  with  no  rustling 
of  petticoats,  no  swing  of  the  hips,  no  glance  o'er  the  shoulder 
— like  this.  When  'tis  supper-time  you're  hungry  as  a  man, 
instead  of  crying,  "What,  meat  again  so  soon!  La!  I've 
no  stomach."  When  your  wine-cup's  filled  you  never  say, 
"No;  not  another  drop;  I  really  cannot,  and  I  do  protest." 
And  then  you  never  faddle  with  your  hair,  play  with  your 

108 


THE   LESSER    EVIL 

necklace,  toy  with  your  fan,  complain  you  are  freezing  while 
the  others  sweat,  yawn  when  they  laugh,  or  smile  in  sermon 
time — in  fine,  my  dear  and  lovely  mistress,  you  want  those 
pretty  tricks,  those  darling  cozenries,  lacking  which  a  woman's 
little  better  than  a  page  in  petticoats. 


BLANCHE 

A  thousand  thanks!  I  read  your  lesson  well,  how  have 
I  undervalued  you !  Hugh,  I  stand  amazed.  How  much  you 
know !  Where  did  you  learn  it  all  ? 


HUGH 

I've  paid  dear  for  my  lessons.  My  schoolmistresses  did  not 
learn  me  for  nothing. 

BLANCHE 

Why  didn't  you  teach  me  all  you  know  ?  It's  too  late  now. 
With  death  at  the  door,  I  cannot  mince  and  grin  and  say  (imi 
tating  HUGH),  "Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  an  it  pleases  you  to 
bestow  on  me  your  hand  and  name,  I'll  starve  at  supper  time, 
freeze  when  you — glow,  bite  my  lips,  cock  my  eye,  shake  my 
skirts,  giggle  when  you  talk  sense,  and  when  you  grieve  be  as 
gamesome  as  my  monkey."  All  wisdom  comes  too  late.  I 
must  keep  to  my  boy's  ways,  or  I  shall  be  like  the  donkey  who 
played  the  lap-dog  in  the  lame  Greek's  fable.  (Changing  her 
tone  and  putting  her  hands  on  HUGH'S  shoulders.)  Then 
you'll  not  help  me  ?  This  is  your  last  word  ? 

109 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


HUGH 

Don't  look  at  me  like  that,  or  I'll  turn  traitor  in  my  own 
despite. 

BLANCHE 

One  grace  only,  I  beseech  of  you.  When  you  come  with  the 
others  to  take  him,  he  will  resist.  You  can  do  that  for  him 
with  your  good  sword  which  my  uncle  would  shamefully  per 
form  with  a  rope.  Hugh,  you  cannot  refuse — you  are  a  sol 
dier — not  a  hangman.  Think  in  what  a  piteous  plight  I  am 
when  the  only  favor  I  can  give  the  man  I  love  is  a  swift  and 
honorable  death ! 

HUGH 

If  he  prefers  it  to  you,  the  fool  deserves  it.  (Goes  to  shrine, 
kisses  the  crucifix.)  I  promise.  (Going,  he  turns.)  'Tis  a 
fine  stripling  and  a  good  swordsman.  Give  him  another 
chance,  mistress;  even  if  he  loves  you  not,  wedding  with  you 
is  better  than  being  hugged  by  a  noose. 

BLANCHE 

Thanks,  Hugh.  You  always  over-praise  me.  Remember. 
(Exit  HUGH.  The  sky  outside  the  window  grows  rosy.  A 
trumpet-call  is  heard  in  the  distance.)  They'll  be  on  us  in  a 
moment.  (Takes  the  szuord  off  the  prayer  cushion  and  goes 
to  the  door  right.)  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu!  (Enter  DENIS.) 
My  dear  champion,  take  your  sword.  When  they  enter  I  will 
rush  upon  them  with  this.  (Shows  him  the  dagger  at  her 
girdle.)  They  love  me — will  hesitate  a  moment,  falter,  and 

no 


THE   LESSER   EVIL 

my  death  will  delay  them  long  enough  for  you  to  throw  your 
self  upon  them  and  find — a  noble  deliverance !  A  sword  thrust 
is  more  honorable  than  a  halter. 

DENIS 
Not  when  your  life  is  the  price  of  such  honor. 

BLANCHE 

You  will  not  rob  me  of  the  one  poor  service  I  can  do  you? 
And  what  sufficient  reason  have  I  for  living  after  you  are 
gone?  (The  soldiers  are  heard  outside.  BLANCHE  throws 
herself  in  front  of  DENIS  and  takes  out  the  dagger.) 

DENIS,  sternly 

Give  me  that  toy!  (Tries  to  take  it  from  her,  she  resists; 
he  wrenches  it  out  of  her  hand  and  tosses  it  out  of  the  open 
window1.  HUGH,  at  the  head  of  the  men-at-arms,  appears  at 
the  top  of  the  steps.) 

BLANCHE,  while  DENIS  holds  her  back 

Cruel!  Cruel!  (To  soldiers.)  Spare  him!  Ah,  don't  kill 
him;  he  is  not  the  man.  He  is  innocent!  (The  men-at-arms 
descend  the  steps.)  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  doing. 
Nay,  never  dare  to  touch  him !  I  command  you !  I  too  am 
a  Maletroit.  Stand  back!  Ah,  Raoul,  Hugh,  Blaise,  wait 
one  moment !  I  am  sure  you  would  let  him  go  if  you  would 
only  listen  to  me.  I  have  such  good  reasons,  which  I  will 

in 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

explain  if  you  will  stay  one  moment.  It  is  so  difficult  to  think 
when  one  is  hurried.  This  must  not  happen — such  monstrous 
things  are  not  done —  Oh,  pity — 

HUGH 

Mistress,  your  uncle's  coming!  (BLANCHE  sinks  back  ex 
hausted.  ) 

DENIS,  quietly 

I  am  at  your  service,  but  I  would  say  one  word  to  this  lady 
first.  (Leads  BLANCHE  to  the  window.)  Blanche,  you  have 
seen  whether  I  fear  death.  You  know  well  enough  that  I 
would  as  gladly  leap  out  of  that  window  into  the  empty  air  as 
to  lay  a  finger  on  you  without  your  consent.  But  if  you  care 
for  me  at  all,  do  not  let  me  lose  my  life  in  a  misapprehension 
— for  I  love  you  better  than  the  whole  world. 


BLANCHE 

Oh,  why  didn't  you  say  so  before? 

HUGH,  paternally 

Yes,  why  didn't  you,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu?     Think  what 
a  lot  of  pother  you  might  have  saved  us  all ! 

BLANCHE,  in  a  very  small  voice 
Will  you  marry  me,  Monsieur  de  Beaulieu,  please? 

112 


, 


THE  LESSER  EVIL 

DENIS,  passionately 
Ah-h-h !     ( Embraces  her.) 

HUGH  gives  a  whispered  order  and  the  soldiers  face  the  other 
way.  Enter  ALAIN  DE  MALETROIT,  unperceived  by  DENIS 
and  BLANCHE  still  clasped  in  each  other's  arms 

ALAIN,  smiling 
Good  morning,  my  nephew! 


iff 


: 


TANCREDE,  VICOMTE  DE  BEZIERS,  cousin  of  the  Marquise 
de  Crequy. 

EDME,  COMTE  DE  SEMOULE,  the  heir  of  the  de  Semoules. 
JACQUES  DE  BEAUVOIR,  a  Parisian  journalist. 
RENE  DE  CREQUY,  Marquis  de  Crequy,  brother  of  Desiree. 
BAPTISTE,  butler  of   the  Marquise  de  Crequy. 

YOLANDE-ALIXE-MARIE-jEANNE,     etc.,     DE     CREQUY,     Mar- 

quise  de  Crequy. 

DESIREE  DE  CREQUY,  granddaughter  of  the  Marquise  de 
Crequy. 

LUCY  WESTERN,  an  American  widow. 

Time,  July,  1880.     Place,  the  Chateau  of  Crequy 
on  the  Loire 


THE  HONOR  OF  THE  CREQUY 


ACT  I 

Scene 

Central  hall  in  the  chateau.  Centre,  a  monumental  staircase 
leading  to  the  upper  floor;  on  the  landing  six  doors,  three  to 
left  and  three  to  right.  On  the  ground  floor  right  and  left 
centre,  long  French  windoivs  opening  on  the  park.  Left,  a 
carved  chimney  piece ;  before  the  hearth  a  Louis  XVI  arm 
chair,  foot-stool,  and  work-table.  Right,  a  rack  ivith  crops, 
sticks,  and  tennis-rackets,  a  bamboo  table  covered  with  news 
papers  and  reviews,  and  several  wicker  lounging-chairs,  on  one 
of  them  a  pair  of  driving- gloves  and  a  leader.  On  the  walls, 
above  and  below  the  gallery  formed  by  the  overhanging  upper 
floor,  family  portraits — soldiers,  courtiers,  and  beauties — hung 
between  hunting  trophies  and  panoplies. 

Enter  from  door  on  left  BAPTISTE  with  newspapers,  letters, 
and  parcels,  which  he  places  on  ivork-table  at  left,  and 
begins  to  sort  slowly. 

Enter  from  window  on  right  DE  SEMOULE, 
tennis-racket  in  hand 

117 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DE    SEMOULE 

The  letters  have  come.     Is  there  anything  for  me? 

BAPTISTE 

I  do  not  know  yet,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  Monsieur  le  Comte 
need  not  give  himself  the  trouble  to  wait  here.  I  will  bring 
him  his  correspondence. 

DE    SEMOULE 

No,  thanks.     I'll  remain  here.     You  have  a  cargo,  Baptiste. 

BAPTISTE 

Truly,  Monsieur  le  Comte,  one  would  say  that  we  had  come 
to  the  country  in  order  to  shop  by  mail  in  Paris.  Every  post 
brings  us  as  many  packages.  And  the  orders — they  never 
end;  and  the  mistakes — and  the  objects  to  be  exchanged! 
Monsieur  le  Comte  can  imagine  how  much  head  is  required 
to  keep  these  affairs  in  order. 

DE    SEMOULE 

Well,  Baptiste,  you  have  a  genius  for  administration. 
You're  a  real  Buonaparte. 

BAPTISTE 

Monsieur  le  Comte  is  too  indulgent.  If  Monsieur  le  Comte 
will  pardon  an  old  servitor,  I  would  suggest  that  a  Sully  or  a 

118 


THE   HONOR   OF    THE    CREQUY 

Colbert  would  be  a  more  appropriate  comparison  to  employ  in 
this  house. 

DE  SEMOULE 

You  mustn't  be  more  of  a  royalist  than  the  king,  Baptiste. 
Well,  and  my  letter? 

BAPTISTE 

Pardon;  in  one  moment,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  (Continues 
to  sort  the  parcels.)  The  "Debats"  of  Monsieur  le  Vicomte, 
the  "Semaine  Religieuse"  of  Madame  la  Marquise,  the  ''Her 
ald"  of  Mistress  Western,  and  the  "Gil  Bias"  of  Monsieur  de 
Beauvoir. 

DE  SEMOULE,  impatiently 

Yes,  yes ;  but  my  letters  ? 

BAPTISTE 

I  am  coming  to  them,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  (Continues  his 
enumeration.)  The  dog-biscuit  of  Mademoiselle,  the  false 
hair  of  Madame  la  Marquise,  the  digestive  capsules  of  Mon 
sieur  le  Vicomte. 

DE  SEMOULE 

Very  interesting,  without  doubt;  but  how  long  before  you 
will  finish  exposing  the  family  and  distribute  the  letters? 

BAPTISTE,  respectfully  but  firmly 

One  must  have  order  in  everything,  Monsieur  le  Comte.  If 
I  do  not  proceed  with  system  I  shall  lose  my  head.  (DE 

119 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

SEMOULE  throws  himself  into  a  chair  and  lights  a  cigarette.) 
A  bill  for  Madame  la  Marquise,  a  message  from  the  other  world 
for  Mistress  Western,  a  postal  card,  very  badly  written,  for 
Monsieur  de  Beauvoir.  Ah,  finally  the  letter  of  Monsieur  le 
Comte!  (Puts  it  on  a  tray  and  presents  it  ceremoniously  to. 
DE  SEMOULE,  who  pounces  on  it;  as  he  does  so  another  letter 
which  has  adhered  to  it  drops  to  the  floor.  He  picks  it  up.) 

DE    SEMOULE 

For  Mademoiselle  Desiree.     From  Tours.     What  a  curious 
handwriting ! 

BAPTISTE 

We  do  not  know  any  one  in  Tours.     (Holds  out  the  tray 
for  the  letter.) 

DE    SEMOULE 

No.     I'll  give  it  her  myself.     You  can  go. 
(Exit  BAPTISTE) 

DE  SEMOULE  seats  himself  and  reads  his  letter 

Enter  quietly  by  window  on  right  DESIREE  DE  CREQUY. 
She  goes  softly  to  DE  SEMOULE  and  calls  in  his  ear 

DESIREE 

Cuckoo !     (DE  SEMOULE  starts,  rises,  and  throws  down  his 
cigarette. )     Nervous !     At  your  age !    What  a  wreck  you  are ! 

120 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE    CREQUY 

DE    SEMOULE 

Pardon  me,  Mademoiselle,  but  as  I  was  thinking  of  you,  your 
voice  startled  me. 

DESIREE 

What  a  lame  excuse!  You  were  absorbed  in  a  letter — a 
letter  from  a  lady,  I'll  wager. 

DE    SEMOULE 

Well  guessed !  It  is  from  a  lady — the  Baronne  de  Keradec, 
my  aunt. 

DESIREE 

Then  it  should  be  written  on  parchment,  in  the  Gothic  char 
acter,  and  fastened  with  a  great  seal. 

DE  SEMOULE,  coming  nearer  to  her 
Don't  ridicule  my  letter;  there  is  much  about  you  in  it. 

DESIREE,  retreating  to  the  other  side  of  the  table 

It  must  be  dull  reading,  then.  Forsake  your  family  papers 
and  finish  this  set  with  me.  Mrs.  Western  and  Monsieur  de 
Beauvoir  have  beaten  me  shamefully  since  you  left. 

DE    SEMOULE 

I  am  made  desolate  by  refusing  you,  but  I  must  see  Madame 
de  Crequy  before  dinner.  This  letter — 

121 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE 

Will  not  fly  away,  and  Granny  is  always  better  tempered 
after  tea.  Come,  come,  you  can't  refuse  a  distressed  damsel, 
unless  you  prefer  the  society  of  mademoiselle  votre  cigarette. 
Your  letter  is  only  a  pretext. 

DE    SEMOULE 

And  have  you  no  suspicion  as  to  what  it  contains  ? 

DESIREE 

No ;  I  am  of  an  unsuspicious  nature. 

DE    SEMOULE 

I  mean,  cannot  you  guess? 

DESIREE,  nervously 

We  don't  guess  any  more,  even  in  America.  (Crossing  to 
table  on  left. )  The  post  has  come,  and  you  have  had  the  heart 
to  keep  it  from  me. 

DE    SEMOULE 

There  is  nothing  there  but  dog-biscuit  and  a  book  for  you, 
and — 

DESIREE 
Food  for  the  flesh  and  the  spirit.     You  call  that  nothing? 

122 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE    CREQUY 

DE   SEMOULE 

And  this.  (Takes  the  letter  from  his  pocket  and  gives  it 
to  her.) 

DESIREE 

How  long  has  it  been  in  the  poche  rest  ante? 

DE    SEMOULE 

Five  minutes  only,  I  assure  you. 

DESIREE,  looking  at  the  letter 

Tours  ?  Tours  ?  Whom  do  I  know  in  Tours  ?  Not  a  soul. 
What  a  curious  hand!  A  begging  letter,  of  course;  I  get 
so  many  of  them — I,  who  never  have  a  penny!  It  will  keep. 
(  Tucks  the  letter  into  her  belt. )  Come ! 

DE    SEMOULE 

With  pleasure.      (Rings  bell  on  left  of  chimney  piece.) 
Enter  BAPTISTS 

DE    SEMOULE 

Give  this  letter  to  Madame  la  Marquise,  and  ask  if  I  may 
see  her  at  six  o'clock. 

123 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BAPIISTE,  taking  the  letter  which  DE  SEMOULE  hands  him 
Very  well,  Monsieur  le  Comte. 

(Exit  BAPTISTE  on  left) 

DESIREE 

Can  you  come  with  me  now? 

DE    SEMOULE 

To  the  end  of  the  world,  Mademoiselle. 

DESIREE 

No;  only  to  the  end  of  the  lawn. 

(Exeunt  by  window  on  right) 

Enter  the  MARQUISE  DE  CREQUY  from  zvindow  on  left,  with 
DE  SEMOULE'S  letter  in  her  hand.  Seats  herself  in  the  arm 
chair  by  the  hearth,  looks  over  the  parcels,  and  unfolds  the 
letter.  Sound  of  wheels  outside. 

Enter  the  VICOMTE  DE  BEZIERS,  accompanied  by  BAPTISTE  with 
a  portmanteau  which  he  carries  up-stairs  to  third  door  on 
right  of  landing.  Exit  BAPTISTE  through  said  door. 

124 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

THE  MARQUISE,  rising 

At  last !  I  am  so  relieved  that  you  have  returned !  I  never 
had  more  pressing  need  of  your  counsel  and  your  aid. 

DE  BEZIERS,  kissing  her  hand  and  seating  himself  on  left 

I  suspected  as  much  from  your  telegram,  and  here  I  am. 
Count  on  my  devotion  and  command  my  services.  First,  what 
has  happened?  Has  the  king  sent  you  a  manifesto,  or  has 
Desiree  run  away? 

THE  MARQUISE 

Worse  than  that !     Rene  has. 

DE    BEZIERS 

What? 

THE  MARQUISE 

Run  away. 

DE    BEZIERS 

From  his  regiment?  Deserted?  He,  a  soldier  and  a  Cre- 
quy !  Impossible ! 

THE  MARQUISE 

He  is  only  half  a  Crequy,  you  remember. 

DE    BEZIERS 

But  that  is  enough  to  hold  on  to  the  other  half.  How  did 
it  happen — how  could  it  happen? 

125 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

THE  MARQUISE,  leaning  back  in  her  chair 

It  will  be  such  a  consolation  to  tell  you  all.  I  have  been 
forced  to  control  myself  so  long.  You  can  imagine  the  state 
of  my  nerves. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Will  you  not  begin  at  once,  dear  cousin?  I  am  all  im 
patience. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Naturally.  Well,  you  know  that,  though  I  had  chosen  a 
diplomatic  career  for  Rene — 

DE    BEZIERS 

The  refuge  of  all  spoiled  children.  He  couldn't  manage 
his  own  estates,  so  you  thought  that  he  could  direct  European 
affairs. 

THE    MARQUISE 

No.  I  wanted  him  to  figure  at  courts,  for,  in  spite  of  his 
American  mother,  Rene  has  the  "grand  air." 

DE  BEZIERS,  moving  uneasily  in  his  chair 

Pardon  me,  but  what  relation  is  there  between  Rene's  ap 
pearance  and  your  present  misfortune? 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  am  coming  to  it,  cousin,  if  you  will  be  as  patient  as  you 
are  energetic. 

126 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE    BEZIERS 

Pardon  my  impatience;  it  arises  from  my  desire  to  be  of 
immediate  service  to  you. 

THE    MARQUISE 

A  thousand  thanks !     I  fear  that  you  find  me  nervous,  agi 
tated,  even  irritable,  but  I  have  suffered  so  much. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Yes,  of  course  you  have  been  annihilated ;  that  goes  without 
saying.     Rene,  then,  ran  away? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Yes.     When  the  news  arrived,  like  you,  I  refused  to  be 
lieve  it. 

DE    BEZIERS 

And  in  detail  this  news  was? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Unbearable,  my  cousin,  insupportable !     I  had  a  nervous  at 
tack  when  I  received  it,  and  all  yesterday — 

DE    BEZIERS 

And  what  steps  did  you  take?     What  did  you  do? 

127 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  went  to  bed  immediately  and  took  eau  de  melisse,  but 
there  are  blows  which  no  tisane  can  soften. 

DE    BEZIERS 

You  sent  no  word? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Yes,  immediately  to  my  doctor. 

DE  BEZIERS,  in  despair,  changing  his  line  of  attack 
Who  knows  of  this  besides  yourself? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Desiree  only. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Good!     What  did  she  do? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Put  me  to  bed,  sent  for  the  doctor,  telegraphed  to  you,  enter 
tained  our  guests,  and  invented  any  number  of  excuses  to 
account  for  my  illness  and  our  confusion. 

DE  BEZIERS 

She's  worthy  of  her  grandmother.  She  should  have  gone 
into  diplomacy.  My  dear  cousin,  we  must  use  despatch  as 

128 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

well  as  discretion.     Tell  me,  without  delay,  what  has  hap 
pened  ? 

THE    MARQUISE 

It  is  a  long  story. 

DE    BEZIERS,   Sighing 

I  am  sure  of  it. 


THE  MARQUISE,  Suspiciously 

Eh?  (DE  BEZIERS  looks  at  her  with  an  expression  of  elab 
orate  guiltlessness,  and  she  continues.)  You  may  remember, 
four  months  ago  Rene  began  his  year  of  military  service. 

DE    BEZIERS 

His  volontariat — yes. 


THE    MARQUISE 

From  the  first  the  subalterns,  all  of  them  more  or  less  repub 
licans,  were  unreasonably  severe  with  him.  They  were  envious 
of  his  name,  his  position,  and  imposed  on  him  the  hardest  and 
most  disgusting  tasks.  His  pride,  the  pride  of  the  Crequy, 
revolted,  and  he  refused  to  perform  them. 

DE  BEZIERS,  rising  suddenly 

Sacrrrrrre  noin  d'tm — sabre!  Pardon,  but  I  can't  hear  such 
enormities  unmoved.  (Sits  down  again.) 

129 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  share  my  indignation.  Well,  to 
abridge  (DE  BEZIERS  sighs)  a  long  recital  of  petty  tyrannies, 
my  poor  Rene  was  always  in  disgrace  for  some  outbreak,  and 
passed  five  out  of  seven  days  in  prison. 

DE  BEZIERS,  earnestly 

But,  my  cousin,  surely  you  lectured  him.  Naturally,  you 
showed  him  how  unmanly  his  conduct  was.  It  was  his  coun 
try,  not  his  sergeant,  that  he  was  refusing  to  serve. 

THE  MARQUISE,  ivith  dignity 

I  know  my  duties,  and  I  try  to  perform  them.  I  did  reason 
with — Rene's  colonel. 

DE    BEZIERS 

With  Lemors?  That  martinet — that  manual  of  military 
discipline!  How  did  he  receive  your  remonstrances? 

THE    MARQUISE 

• 

111 — very  ill.  He  also  referred  to  Rene  in  terms  which  I 
cannot  repeat. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Were  they  so  very  bad? 

130 


t 


THE    HONOR    OF   THE    CREQUY 

THE    MARQUISE 

Yes — no — I  don't  know.  I  have  forgotten,  for  I  didn't 
understand  them.  They  were  incomprehensible  to  me. 

DE    BEZIERS 

An  old  soldier  would  hardly  speak  the  language  of  Vol 
taire — or  of  Madame  de  Crequy.  But  pity  my  suspense,  and 
continue. 

THE  MARQUISE,  reflectively 

I  wrote  them  down.  Have  the  goodness  to  ring,  and  I  will 
send  for  my  note-book  and  show  them  to  you. 

DE  BEZIERS,  rising  and  walking  up  and  down  the  room 

Mais — saperlipopette! — we  are  losing  time,  and  every  in 
stant  is  precious. 

THE  MARQUISE,  nettled 

Dame!  What  would  you?  You  asked  me  for  details,  and 
I  am  giving  you  details.  Will  you  listen  to  them?  Yes  or 
no  ?  They  are  to  leave  or  to  take ! 

DE    BEZIERS 

Le  diable  m'enfourche  si  je — 

THE    MARQUISE 

You  were  saying — ? 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


DE  BEZIERS,  controlling  himself  with  an  effort 

That  time  is  invaluable  if  we  are  to  act  effectively.     Was 
Rene  helped  by  your  intercession? 


THE    MARQUISE 

Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  they  were  even  more  harsh  with 
him  than  before. 


DE  BEZIERS,  sitting  down  again 

Sapristi!  How  strange!  (Aside.)  To  think  that  at  twen 
ty-five  I  almost  broke  my  heart  because  I  couldn't  marry  her ! 
Lord,  I  thank  thee  for  thy  many  mercies ! 


THE    MARQUISE 

Eh,  my  cousin,  you  who  have  escaped  the  sorrows  of  do 
mestic  life  have  much  to  be  thankful  for. 


DE    BEZIERS 

So  I  was  just  thinking,  cousin.  Let  me  know,  I  conjure 
you,  the  immediate  cause  of  the  catastrophe.  Remember  the 
value  of  every  moment.  Pardon  me  if  for  once  I  beg  so 
charming  a  talker  to  assume  the  style  of  the  reporter;  imagine 
that  you  are  telegraphing  to  me. 

132 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


THE  MARQUISE  pauses  a  moment  and  begins  rapidly 

Day  before  yesterday,  while  the  officers  were  giving  a  break 
fast  to  some  comrades  from  another  garrison,  Rene,  who  had 
also  been  breakfasting  copiously,  rode  his  horse  into  the  mess- 
room,  and,  sword  in  hand,  made  the  tour  of  the  table,  break 
ing  the  glasses  as  he  passed. 


DE  BEZIERS,  rising 
Sacre  nom  d'une  pipe!     Pardon,  I  can  bear  no  more. 

THE    MARQUISE 

It  was  a  horror,  wasn't  it?  Then  he  was  out  again  before 
they  could  stop  him.  Rene  rides  like  a  centaur. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Saprelotte!  The  moment  is  badly  chosen  in  which  to  com 
mend  his  horsemanship,  though  I  admit  that  if  he  had  been  one 
of  Dumas's  mousquetaires  it  would  be  an  amusing  episode 
instead  of  a  calamity.  He  was  finally  arrested  and — 

THE    MARQUISE 

Put  in  prison,  of  course,  but  managed  to  escape  the  same 
evening,  leaving  a  note — very  witty  and  well  turned,  by  the 
way — to  his  sergeant. 

133 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DE    BEZIERS 

Peste  soit  de  son  esprit!  (Sits  down  and  reflects  a  moment.) 
You  don't  know  where  he  is  ? 

THE    MARQUISE 

No. 

DE    BEZIERS 

To  whom  would  he  naturally  turn  when  in  trouble? 

THE    MARQUISE 

He  ought  to  confide  in  me,  of  course;  but  I  fear  that  the 
misguided  boy  prefers  to  put  his  trust  in  his  sister. 

DE    BEZIERS 

And  she  has  not  heard  from  him?  (The  marquise  shakes 
her  head.)  Keep  an  eye  on  Desiree's  correspondence.  He 
may  try  to  communicate  with  her. 

THE  MARQUISE,  turning  over  the  parcels 

There  is  nothing  here  but  dog-biscuit  and  a  volume  of 
'Coppee. 

DE    BEZIERS 

There  is  a  complication  in  this  matter,  cousin.  The  act  of 
amnesty  now  before  the  Senate,  framed  especially  to  pardon 
the  insurrectionists  of  '70  and  '71,  also  includes  deserters 

134 


THE    HONOR    OF   THE    CREQUY 

from  the  army.     This  saves  Rene  from  death  or  expatriation, 
and  at  the  same  time  publishes  his  misconduct  to  the  world. 

THE    MARQUISE 

And  a  Crequy  would  despise  such  a  shameful  pardon. 

DE  BEZIERS,  sternly 

A  deserter  should  not.  Rene  must  be  found  and  forced  to 
return  in  time  to  save  his  honor. 

THE    MARQUISE 

And  ours. 

DE    BEZIERS 

He  must  be  compelled  to  realize  the  gravity  of  his  offence. 
How  should  you  like  to  read  his  name  on  the  list  of  the  par 
doned  between  a  petroleuse  and  a  communist  ? 

THE  MARQUISE,  shuddering 
He  must  be  found ! 

DE    BEZIERS 

He  has  had  a  long  start.  I  will  telegraph  at  once  to  Colonel 
Lemors,  who  is  an  old  comrade  of  mine ;  we  made  the  African 
campaign  together.  Then  a  message  to  Limier — he  is  the  best 
agent  for  private  and  domestic  work,  I  think.  With  your 
permission.  (He  rings.) 

Enter  BAPTISTS 
135 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DE    BEZIERS 

Have  Topsy  saddled  at  once.  I'll  go  alone  to  the  telegraph 
office.  No  groom. 

BAPTISTE 

Very  well,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte. 

(Exit  BAPTISTE) 

THE    MARQUISE 

What  a  comfort  you  are!  Shall  we  ever  have  done  with 
the  misfortunes  the  American  marriage  has  brought  upon  us? 

DE   BEZIERS,    ClSldc 

I  can't  stand  another  jeremiad,  and  her  notions  of  causation 
are  so  confused!  (Aloud.)  I  remember  that  the  American 
dowry  came  into  the  family  at  an  opportune  moment. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Yes,  indeed!  Rene's  father  had  run  through  everything, 
and  we  were  mortgaged  up  to  the  eyes  when  Miss  Wainwright 
accepted  him. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Therefore,  cousin,  you  should  have  felt  some  gratitude  to 
the  American  heiress,  especially  as  she  pushed  consideration 
to  the  point  of  dying  as  soon  as  she  had  provided  an  heir  for 
the  Crequy. 

136 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


THE    MARQUISE 

But  she  took  my  son's  heart  with  her,  and  a  year  afterwards 
we  buried  the  rest  of  him. 


DE    BEZIERS 

Which  proves  that  she  must  have  been  a  captivating  person, 
for  constancy  was  never  a  quality  of  the  Crequy —  (THE 
MARQUISE  looks  at  him.  He  adds  hastily) — men. 


THE    MARQUISE 

She  was  charming,  but  always  in  revolt.  My  poor  Rene 
inherits  her  spirit  of  insubordination.  Have  you  not  often  re 
marked  what  insurgents,  what  revolutionists  are  these  Ameri 
can  grandchildren  of  mine?  Conventions  do  not  exist  for 
them.  They  take  nothing  for  granted.  It  was  because  Rene 
felt  the  ferment  of  this  blood  that  he  could  not  yield  to  dis 
cipline. 

DE    BEZIERS 

Permit  me  to  be  of  another  opinion,  my  cousin.  The  Prince 
de  Joinville,  who  participated  in  their  Civil  War,  has  often 
spoken  with  me  of  the  military  talent  of  the  Americans.  Their 
uniforms  left  much  to  be  desired,  and,  as  in  England,  there  was 
no  commissariat,  but  they  lacked  neither  fortitude,  patience,  nor 
discipline.  Rene  is  not  an  American.  He  is  a  French  noble — 
(aside)  terribly  spoiled  by  his  grandmother. 

137 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


THE    MARQUISE 

And  Desiree.  Is  she  not  untamed?  She  was  rebellious 
before  she  went  to  America  to  visit  her  relatives.  Now  she  is 
emancipated. 

DE   BEZIERS 

You  should  not  have  let  her  go. 

THE    MARQUISE 

But  they  were  so  insistent,  and  so  rich,  and  so  childless. 
It  wouldn't  have  been  considerate  to  refuse. 


DE    BEZIERS 

Well,  at  least  she  isn't  the  uglier  for  it,  and  she  doesn't  lack 
a  stock  of  pretenders  who  seem  willing  to  brave  the  dangers 
of  independence.  By  the  way,  whom  have  you  in  the  house? 

THE    MARQUISE 

De  Semoule,  an  aspirant. 

DE    BEZIERS 

And  the  best  of  good  matches.  Everything  that  is  most 
eligible. 

THE   MARQUISE 

A  formal  demand  for  Desiree  has  just  reached  me  from 
Madame  de  Keradec.  Do  you  care  to  see  it  ? 

138 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE  BEZIERS 

Not  now.     Who  else? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Jacques  de  Beauvoir. 

DE   BEZIERS 

Everything  that  is  most  ineligible — that  is,  unless  his  uncle 
and  cousin  should  have  the  kindness  to  die  and  leave  him  the 
title  and  the  money.  He  is  too  attractive  to  be  a  safe  ac 
quaintance  for  a  romantic  girl  like  Desiree. 

THE    MARQUISE 

He  was  invited  to  amuse  Mrs.  Western. 

DE   BEZIERS 

And  who  is  Mrs.  Western? 

THE   MARQUISE 

An  American  friend  of  Desiree. 

DE  BEZIERS 

Pretty? 

THE  MARQUISE,  shrugging  her  shoulders 

That's  according  to  taste. 

Enter  BAPTISTE 
139 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

BAPTISTE 

The  horse  of  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  is  ready. 

DE  BEZIERS 

Very  well.     Is  she  young? 

BAPTISTE 

Five  years  this  spring,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte.     (Aside.)     He 
knows  that  as  well  as  I  do. 

DE   BEZIERS 

You  can  go,  my  friend.     (Exit  BAPTISTE.)     I  meant  Mrs. 
Western. 

THE    MARQUISE 

In  the  thirties.     Don't  let  me  detain  you,  as  every  moment 
is  precious. 

DE  BEZIERS 

Divorced,  of  course? 

THE   MARQUISE 

No,  a  widow.     What  a  cross-examination !     Topsy  dislikes 
to  stand,  and  the  telegraph  operator  is — 

140 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE  BEZIERS 

A  widow!  Is  it  possible?  I  never  heard  of  an  American 
widow  except  the  spouse  of  Washington.  Are  you  sure? 

THE  MARQUISE,  impatiently 

I  haven't  seen  her  husband's  certificate  of  decease,  but  he 
died  while  Desiree  was  in  America.  The  telegraph  operator 
dines  early,  my  cousin,  and  you  should  hurry;  we  must  use 
despatch  as  well  as  discretion. 

DE  BEZIERS,  aside 

Attrape,  mon  vleuxl  (Aloud.)  I  go;  I  fly  to  the  station. 
'Au  revoir.  (Aside.)  Young,  pretty,  a  wridow — Tiens,  tiens, 
tiens!  And  I  expected  nothing  but  annoyances  here.  Some 
times  one  is  rewarded  for  doing  one's  duty. 

(Exit  DE  BEZIERS) 

THE    MARQUISE   Opens   the   BARONNE   DE    KERADEC'S    letter 

Enter  DE  SEMOULE 

DE  SEMOULE 

Madame,  if  you  are  occupied  I  will  wait. 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  was  re-reading  Madame  de  Keradec's  letter.  Her  courtesy 
makes  me  overlook  the  extreme  informality  of  your  proposal. 

141 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

What  are  we  coming  to?     The  hand  of  a  Crequy  was  never 
sought  with  such  scant  ceremony  before. 


DE  SEMOULE 

Pardon  the  impatience  of  an  anxious  lover.  My  aunt  de 
Keradec  will  arrive  in  a  few  days,  but  I  could  not  wait  for  her. 
She  doesn't  travel;  she  makes  "progresses"  like  Louis  XIV. 
Mademoiselle  de  Crequy  is  so  surrounded,  so  courted  that  I 
was  tempted  to  make  haste.  Say  that  you  pardon  my  lack 
of  punctilio ! 

THE   MARQUISE 

You  must  not  fancy,  dear  Edme,  because  my  grand 
daughter  is  half  American,  and  has  contracted  some  deplorable 
habits  in  that  country  of  liberty,  that  we  do  not  require  all  the 
usual  forms — even,  perhaps,  a  little  more  ceremony  than  is  cus 
tomary,  because  she  is  inclined  to  disregard  it. 


DE  SEMOULE 

My  Breton  aunt  will  supply  that.    Even  in  our  family  she 
is  called  Madame  I' Etiquette.     Then  you  accept  my  offer? 


THE   MARQUISE 

Provisionally,  yes,  though  I  am  a  little  shocked  by  its  lack  of 
form.     I  cannot  accustom  myself  to  these  republican  manners. 

142 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE  SEMOULE 

Yet  you  accept.     (Kissing  her  hand.)    How  happy  you  have 
made  me ! 

THE   MARQUISE 

Of  course  nothing  is  really  settled  until  I  have  seen  Madame 
de  Keradec  and  your  lawyers. 

DE  SEMOULE 

What  does  Mademoiselle  Desiree  say? 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  haven't  had  time  to  tell  her  yet. 

DE  SEMOULE 

May  I  find  her  for  you? 

THE   MARQUISE 

Yes,  if  you  will.     And — don't  look  so  ridiculously  happy. 

DE  SEMOULE 

I  am  afraid  I  can't  help  it,  Madame. 

(Exit  DE  SEMOULE  OH  Tight) 

143 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 
THE  MARQUISE  takes  out  her  letter,  again 

Enter  DESIREE  from  window  on  right.     THE  MARQUISE 
rises  and  embraces  her 

THE    MARQUISE 

My  dear,  sweet  child !     I  have  good  news  for  you. 

DESIREE,  eagerly 

Then  you  have  heard  something.     I  thought  so  when  I  saw 
our  cousin  gallop  away.     Tell  me  all — this  moment. 

THE   MARQUISE 

Cousin  Tancrede  has  not  been  consulted  yet.     As  head  of 
the  family  I  have  already  decided.     This  letter — 

DESIREE 
Read  it  to  me  at  once,  I  beg  of  you ! 

THE   MARQUISE 

Really,  my  dear,  you  are  a  little  too  eager. 

DESIREE 

Scold  me  afterwards — read  it  first. 

144 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

THE   MARQUISE 

The  Baronne  de  Keradec — 

DESIREE 

What  does  she  know  about  Rene? 

THE   MARQUISE 

Nothing,  fortunately,  my  dear;  but  this  letter  is  a  formal 
demand  for  your  hand. 

DESIREE 

Yes,  yes;  but  how  about  my  brother  and  your  good  news? 

THE    MARQUISE 

Alas!  we  have  none,  my  poor  child;  but  we  are  doing  all 
that  we  can  to  find  him.  Madame  de  Keradec  hopes  to  be 
here— 

DESIREE 

Where  has  Monsieur  de  Beziers  gone  ? 

THE    MARQUISE 

To  the  telegraph  office  to  send  to  Paris  for  a  private  de 
tective. 

DESIREE 

Is  that  all  he  can  do  ?    What  did  he  say — what  did  he  advise  ? 

145 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


THE   MARQUISE 

Desiree,  you  are  too  excited  to  be  told  at  present.  You  have 
a  little  fever.  Go  and  drink  a  large  glass  of  sugared  water 
with  some  orange  flower  in  it. 


DESIREE,  throwing  herself  on  her  knees  before  THE 
MARQUISE  and  taking  both  her  hands 

Dear  grandmother,  let  me  stay ;  be  indulgent  to  me  for  once. 
I,  too,  am  suffering.  For  hours  I  have  talked  and  laughed 
and  run  after  a  ridiculous  ball  with  such  a  leaden  heart !  Let 
me  help  if  I  can;  and  if  I  can't,  let  me  go  away  alone  and  cry. 


THE   MARQUISE 

This  is  weak  and  selfish  of  you,  Desiree.  If  you  really 
wish  to  aid  us,  you  will  continue  to  control  yourself.  Think 
of  Rene,  think  of  me,  and  be  calm ! 


DESIREE 
I  will  try.     Now,  what  can  I  do? 

THE   MARQUISE 

Accept  Edme  de  Semoule  like  a  brave  girl.     Your  brother 
is  in  good  hands.     Our  cousin  has  many  resources. 

146 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DESIREE 

Please  explain  some  of  them  to  me;  and  I  would  rather  not 
marry  Edme  de  Semoule,  if  you  don't  mind. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Why,  may  I  ask? 

DESIREE 

He  isn't  my  type. 

THE   MARQUISE 

It  pleases  you  to  treat  a  grave  matter  with  deplorable  light 
ness.     What  are  your  objections  to  Edme? 

DESIREE 
Their  name  is  legion. 

THE   MARQUISE 

Mention  one. 

DESIREE 

Eh !     It  is  difficult. 

THE   MARQUISE 

Did  I  not  say  so? 

DESIREE 

I  admit  that  he  has  all  the  negative  virtues. 

THE   MARQUISE 

Do  you  prefer  the  positive  vices  ? 

147 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


DESIREE 

Yes,  a  few  of  them.  What  I  mean  is  that  he  lacks  per 
sonality.  He  is  just  like  all  the  other  young  men  of  his  class. 

THE    MARQUISE 

What  do  you  ask  for?  A  genius,  a  Buonaparte — an  excep 
tion  to  human  kind?  I  fear  that  you  will  not  find  one,  and 
if  you  should,  he  is  not  likely  to  be  a  marrying  man.  Be  rea 
sonable.  Edme  is  noble,  rich,  elegant,  and  madly  in  love  with 
you.  What  more  do  you  want  ? 

DESIREE 

Some  one  whom  I  can  love  and  admire,  who  has  worked, 
suffered,  achieved.  Edme  de  Semoule  has  never  done  any 
thing  for  himself.  He  is  elegant,  thanks  to  his  tailor;  rich  by 
inheritance;  and  noble  because  he  has  "taken  the  trouble  to  be 
born."  He  is  a  kind  of  superior  mechanical  toy,  a  product  of 
other  people's  knowledge  and  energy. 

THE    MARQUISE 

And  your  ideal  is  the  self-made  man?  That  is  the  Ameri 
can  phrase,  is  it  not?  To  have  wisely  used  one's  advantages 
is,  then,  to  have  lacked  character? 

DESIREE 

No ;  but  a  man  should  not  only  have — he  should  do  and  be. 

148 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

THE    MARQUISE 

Don't  forget  that  Edme  is  a  gentleman,  and  that  means  a 
'great  deal  if  you  reflect  upon  it.  Perhaps  you  also  do  not 
realize  that  much  having  means  doing. 

DESIREE 

It  means  keeping,  of  course.  In  spite  of  your  reasoning, 
he  still  seems  to  me  a  spoiled  child  of  fortune  rather  than  a 
man.  Besides,  I  don't  love  him. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Marry  him  first,  and  love  him  afterwards.  Who  will  pre 
vent  you? 

DESIREE 

Who  knows  ?  Suppose  I  should  meet  some  one  afterwards 
•who — for  whom  I  might  feel —  (Hesitates.) 

THE   MARQUISE 

The  electric  spark,  the  coup  de  foudre,  as  you  call  it  in  this 
scientific  age  ?  The  self-manufactured  person  of  your  dreams  ? 

DESIREE 
Yes. 

THE   MARQUISE 

That  will  be  your  husband's  affair.  Pride  is  an  excellent 
lightning-rod,  my  child. 

149 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


DESIREE 

Love  is  a  better  one.  Besides,  I  am  afraid  of  French  hus 
bands. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Are  there  any  others  for  a  Crequy  ? 

DESIREE 

You  found  an  American  wife  for  one. 

THE    MARQUISE 

A  wife?     That  is  different.    Your  mother  became  a  Crequy. 

DESIREE 

Not  entirely;  and  her  children  are  only  half  French — nay, 
only  one  third,  for  the  mother  makes  us  most. 

THE    MARQUISE 

And  the  grandmother  not  at  all,  I  see. 

DESIREE 

Don't  be  ashamed  of  us.  The  American  eagle  is  as  fine  a 
bird  as  the  Gallic  cock,  though  he  needs  more  space  and  flies 
over  your  barnyard  walls. 

150 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

THE   MARQUISE 

I  never  supposed  that  the  eagle  was  a  domestic  bird.  Look 
at  the  American  divorces ! 

DESIREE 

At  least  he  has  only  one  mate  at  a  time,  while  your  Gallic — 

THE    MARQUISE 

Hush,  Desiree !     I  am  shocked ! 

DESIREE 

We  were  talking  of  natural  history — 

THE   MARQUISE 

Instead  of  something  more  important.  This  is  a  serious 
matter.  Desiree,  my  dear  little  girl,  come  here  close  to  your 
poor  old  grandmother,  who  scolds  you  and  bores  you,  but 
who  loves  you  tenderly.  (DESIREE  seats  herself  at  THE  MAR 
QUISE'S  feet.)  Listen  to  me,  and  don't  believe  me  hard  or 
cruel.  Whatever  you  may  think  or  desire,  my  child,  you  are 
a  Crequy.  You  have  a  name  to  sustain,  and  a  duty  to  per 
form  to  those  who  have  gone  before  you.  Obligations  are 
laid  upon  the  women  of  a  noble  house  as  well  as  upon  the  men. 
It  is  our  part  to  uphold  the  dignity  of  the  family  even  by  the 
sacrifice  of  our  happiness.  Rene  has  forgotten  his  duty;  you, 
by  unselfishly  performing  yours,  can  make  amends  for  his 
wrongdoing.  You  don't  belong  to  yourself.  A  parvenu  or  a 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


gypsy  can  ignore  traditions  and  the  high  claims  of  ancestry 
and  live  for  the  felicity  of  the  individual,  but  we,  who  possess 
a  past  and  hope  for  a  future,  have  a  larger  destiny  to  fulfil. 


DESIREE,  rising 

Granny,  you  touch  me,  but  you  do  not  convince  me.  You 
argue  that  I  should  marry  Monsieur  de  Semoule  because 
my  remote  progenitors  would  approve  of  it.  How  do  I 
know  that  they  would,  by  the  way?  If  I  had  two  lives  I  would 
live  one  to  gratify  my  ancestors,  who  lived  theirs  to  please 
themselves.  Having  only  one,  I  will  follow  their  example. 


THE    MARQUISE 

There  is  no  obligation  that  one  cannot  reason  away.  Yours 
are  the  morals  of  the  savage,  Desiree — no,  I  wrong  the  savage. 
He  possesses  tribal  feeling,  and  has  been  known  to  sacrifice 
himself  for  a  brother. 

DESIREE 

A  brother!     What  do  you  mean? 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  mean,  if  you  must  have  it  written  large,  that  the  de  Se- 
moules  have  rallied  to  the  support  of  the  republic  and  possess 
political  influence;  that  the  minister  of  war  is  Edme's  god 
father.  Rene  needs  friends ;  give  him  a  powerful  one. 

152 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DESIREE 

Can  we  not  appeal  to  Monsieur  de  Semoule  as  a  friend 
for  help? 

THE    MARQUISE 

After  we  have  refused  him  as  a  husband?  He  would  then 
display  a  fine  zeal  in  Rene's  cause,  would  he  not?  He  adores 
you,  Desiree;  you  can  do  what  you  will  with  him. 

DESIREE 

Please  let  me  think  a  moment.  This  means  a  great  deal 
to  me.  No,  what  is  the  use?  If  Monsieur  de  Semoule  will 
help  Rene,  I'll  marry  him — and  be  miserable.  There! 

THE  MARQUISE,  klSSlHg  her 

My  dear  one,  never  fear ;  in  seeking  the  happiness  of  others, 
you  will  find  your  own.  And,  Desiree,  how  well  the  arms 
will  quarter !  I  have  already  thought  of  a  charming  combina 
tion  for  the  linen. 

DESIREE 

Can  we  tell  him  about  Rene  at  once? 

THE    MARQUISE 

I  must  wait  until  I  have  consulted  our  cousin.  We  may 
have  some  good  news  before  to-morrow  which  will  show  Rene 
in  a  better  light.  Until  then  I  must  pledge  you  to  secrecy, 
my  dear. 

153 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE,  indifferently 
As  you  will.     Arrange  it  to  suit  yourself. 

THE   MARQUISE 

My  little  one,  you  have  lifted  a  weight  from  my  heart.  I 
have  not  been  a  happy  woman,  Desiree.  I  lost  my  son  in  his 
youth;  I  have  seen  the  invasion  of  France,  the  proclamation 
of  a  republic,  and  the  disgrace  of  the  Marquis  de  Crequy. 
And  now  you  have  made  me  glad.  Isn't  that  worth  some 
thing?  Come  here,  Madame  la  Comtesse,  and  embrace  your 
poor  old  Granny. 

DESIREE,  kissing  her 

Are  you  sure  this  sacrifice — for  it  is  one — is  necessary  ? 

THE   MARQUISE 

I  know,  my  dear ;  but  I  am  too  happy  to  play  the  role  of  the 
mourning  Agamemnon.  We  will  deck  the  victim  with  the 
historic  Semoule  sapphires.  How  they  will  become  you ! 

DESIREE 

Granny,  you  hurt  me — don't !  One  condition,  please :  I  am 
not  to  be  hurried  into  this  marriage.  I  will  have  a  long  en 
gagement. 

THE  MARQUISE,  in  trepidation 

But  not  a  VAmericaine.  No  rides  in  bogheys,  no  evening 
rambles. 

154 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


DESIREE 

It  will  be  a  la  frangaise,  if  you  will,  or  even  a  Vespagnole,  if 
you  prefer  it.  If  Monsieur  de  Semoule  dies  for  me,  he  can 
sigh  for  me  a  while. 

THE    MARQUISE 

But  he  may  not  submit  to  these  fantastic  arrangements. 
Take  care;  you  may  lose  him. 

DESIREE 
Then  I'll  be  an  old  maid,  and  dress  St.  Catherine's  hair. 


THE   MARQUISE 

One  says  that,  but  one  doesn't  mean  it. 

DESIREE 

I  do.     I  have  no  vocation  for  matrimony. 

THE   MARQUISE 

So  I  told  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir  yesterday. 


DESIREE 


You  told  him  I  was  averse  to  marriage — but  apropos  of 
what?  He  spoke  of  me?  What  did  he  say?  Dear  Granny, 
tell  me  quickly. 

155 


MASQUES  OF   CUPID 

THE   MARQUISE 

There  is  no  occasion  for  excitement.  We  were  discussing 
the  modern  young  girl,  and  I  cited  you  as  an  instance.  What 
can  it  matter  what  that  boulevardier  thinks  of  you  ? 

DESIREE 

He  is  much  more  than  a  boulevardier.  He  is  a  writer  of 
eminence. 

THE    MARQUISE 

He  is,  above  all,  a  good  swordsman,  and  supports  his  opin 
ions  with  the  point  of  the  small-sword.  No  wonder  his  ar 
ticles  are  authoritative. 

DESIREE 

He  makes  himself  respected  even  by  those  who  are  too 
prejudiced  to  appreciate  one  who  has  cleared  his  own  road  to 
distinction. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Ah!  The  self-manufactured  person  again.  Tiens!  have 
you  joined  the  ranks  of  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir's  many  ad 
mirers  ?  He  has  a  large  assortment  of  them. 


DESIREE 

Which,  as  he  hasn't  a  penny,  proves  his  attractiveness. 

156 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


THE  MARQUISE,  aside 

She  praises  him  too  openly  to  care  for  him.     {Aloud.) 
Then,  Desiree,  it  is  decided,  is  it  not? 


Enter  DE  BEAUVOIR 

THE    MARQUISE 

Will  you  be  my  crutch  as  far  as  the  garden,  Monsieur  ? 


DE  BEAUVOIR,  giving  his  arm  to  THE  MARQUISE,  with 
a  wistful  glance  at  DESIREE 

Too  much  honored,  Madame. 


(Exeunt  by  window  on  right,  DE  BEAUVOIR  laden 
with  zvraps) 


DESIREE  seats  herself  by  table  on  left,  sighs  heavily,  and  leans 
her  head  on  her  hand.  Takes  the  letter  out  of  her  belt  and 
is  about  to  open  it;  lays  it  on  the  table  as  DE  BEAUVOIR 
enters. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

I  have  come  back  for  Madame  de  Crequy's  fichu.     I  have 
just  settled  her  comfortably. 

157 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

DESIREE,  rising  and  giving  him  the  fichu 

What  Esquimaux  old  people  are !  She  started  wrapped  as 
though  she  were  going  on  a  polar  expedition.  You  are  sad, 
Monsieur  de  Beauvoir. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

I  am,  Mademoiselle. 

DESIREE 

It  is  dull  for  you  here  after  Paris.  Even  Mrs.  Western 
cannot  amuse  you.  You  are  losing  your  spirits.  You  need 
another  duel,  perhaps,  to  enliven  you. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Happiness  is  grave,  and  the  happiest  days  of  my  life  have 
been  spent  under  this  roof — and  the  most  wretched  as  well. 

DESIREE 

You  literary  people  are  so  paradoxical !  Is  that  a  reflection 
on  our  hospitality?  What  can  we  do  to  make  all  the  days 
pleasant? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Nothing,  Mademoiselle.  I  am  like  the  puppy  who  cries  for 
the  moon.  It  is  a  grotesque  spectacle,  yet  the  poor  beast 
suffers. 

DESIREE 

He  at  least  tries  to  tell  the  moon  the  cause  of  his  sufferings. 

158 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


DE   BEAUVOIR 

Because  he  is  a  puppy,  and  does  not  realize  that  she  is  quite 
out  of  his  reach.  Pardon  me,  I  interrupt  you.  (Glancing 
at  the  letter  on  the  table.) 

DESIREE 

Only  a  letter  from  some  poor  person,  probably.  There  is 
a  great  deal  of  suffering  in  the  world,  Monsieur.  We  are  not 
the  only  unhappy  ones. 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Wet 

DESIREE 

I  am  not  swimming  in  felicity,  either.  Perhaps  it  is  part  of 
the  scheme  of  things.  It  makes  one  kinder,  doesn't  it,  to 
suffer  ? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

If  one  can  relieve  it.  Otherwise  the  sight  of  it  embitters. 
But  you — why  should  you  feel  pain? 

DESIREE 

We  all  have  our  moons  and —  Granny  hasn't  her  fichu! 
What  a  tardy  Mercury  you  are!  Hurry,  hurry,  Monsieur! 


DE  BEAUVOIR 

But  I  must  ask  you — 

159 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE 

No;  you  must  not  ask  me  anything.  She's  sneezing  now, 
I  am  sure  of  it.  Run — run,  please! 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Why  will  you  never  talk  seriously  to  me  for  two  consecutive 
moments.  I  want — 

DESIREE 

Please  go  now;  she  will  soon  want  something  else.  Au 
rcvoir. 

(Exit  DE  BEAUVOIR  by  window  on  right) 

DESIREE  watches  him  off,  shakes  her  head,  takes  up 
her  letter  again,  and  reads 

"You,  who  have  always  been  my  good  angel,  do  not  desert 
me  now.  You  have  heard  of  my  folly.  If  you  can  find  the 
money  for  me  I  will  go  to  America  and  begin  a  new  life. 
Don't  betray  me;  my  life  depends  on  your  secrecy.  I  will  be 
at  the  King's  Oak  in  the  park  at  three  o'clock  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  Meet  me  there  if  you  still  love  me.  I  promise  you  that 
I  will  yet  prove  worthy  of  your  tenderness,  and  of  all  the  sac 
rifices  you  have  made  for  me  in  the  past." 

Rene  is  found,  thank  God!  No  wonder  I  did  not  recog 
nize  that  disguised  hand.  Now,  what  shall  I  do?  I  cannot 
count  yet  on  Edme's  influence  with  the  minister,  nor  can  I 
persuade  Rene  to  return  to  the  regiment — to  be  imprisoned 
or  shot. 

1 60 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

And  to  take  refuge  in  America  is  to  bid  farewell  to  honor. 
I  must  give  him  the  money,  and  leave  him  free  to  choose  for 
himself.  And  where  is  the  money  to  come  from? 

Enter  DE  BEAUVOIR 


DE  BEAUVOIR 

Madame  de  Crequy  wants  a  footstool.  What  is  the  matter, 
Mademoiselle;  are  you  ill? 

DESIREE,  crumpling  up  the  letter  and  thrusting  it 
into  her  belt  again 

Yes — no.  I  was  a  little  startled  at  your  entrance.  This 
heat  sets  my  nerves  on  edge. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

You  look  pale.     Can  I  get  you  anything? 

DESIREE,  hysterically 

Yes;  find  me  a  true  friend  and  a  wise  adviser,  and  on  your 
way  to  Olympus  to  borrow  Persuasion,  stop  at  the  Credit  Lyon- 
nais  and  draw  me  five  thousand  francs. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Are  you  jesting,  Mademoiselle,  or  do  you  really  need  help? 

161 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

DESIREE,  more  quietly 

Not  from  you,  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir.  But  you  can  counsel 
me.  You  have  had  much  experience. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Of  a  kind.     Well? 

DESIREE,  with  difficulty 

They  tell  me — I  have  heard — that  you  are  not  very  good. 
Is  that  true? 

DE  BEAUVOIR  bows  his  head  silently.    After  a  pause 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Remember  that  I  have  not  always  known  you,  Mademoiselle. 

DESIREE,  collecting  herself 

Indeed,  it  was  not  to  question  you  that  I  asked.  It  was 
because  you  possess  a  knowledge  of  the  world  which  I  have 
not  acquired.  Do  you  believe,  judging  from  your  own  ex 
perience,  that  a  person  still  young,  and  with  a  kind  heart,  who 
has  committed  a  great  error,  can  be  reclaimed? 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Yes;  I  think  so,  because  I  am  convinced  that  an  older  per 
son  who  has  been  guilty  of  more  than  one  misdeed  could,  under 

162 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

certain  circumstances  and  with  the  prospect  of  certain  rewards, 
renounce  the  error  of  his  ways  and  become  quite  exemplary. 

DESIREE 

You  don't  realize  the  gravity  of  the  offence.  I  meant  a  real 
misdemeanor — something  which,  if  known,  would  dishonor 
the  culprit  and  his  family. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

What  do  you  mean?     You  alarm  me. 

DESIREE 

Do  you  think  that  the  sacrifice  of  the  happiness  of  an  inno 
cent  individual  to  the  welfare  of  a  guilty  one  is  the  best  means 
of  reclaiming  the  wrongdoer? 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

It  puts  the  wrongdoer  under  a  terrible  obligation  to  be  re 
claimed.  Mademoiselle,  you  trouble  me;  what  have  you  to 
do  with  wrongdoing  and  dishonor?  You  do  not  even  realize 
what  these  large  terms  mean. 

DESIREE 

I  cannot  tell  you;  to  do  so  would  be  to  violate  a  trust. 
And  don't  look  at  me  like  that.  Forget  that  I  am  a  girl  and 
you  are  a  man,  and  think  of  me  as  a  human  creature  in  dis 
tress  who  seeks  your  help. 

163 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DE  BEAUVOIR,  losing  his  self -command 

My  help !  Ask  me  for  the  last  drop  of  my  blood,  and  you 
shall  have  it.  You  know  that  I  have  no  will  but  yours.  Dis 
pose  of  your  own  according  to  your  pleasure. 

DESIREE 

Hush — hush !  It  is  all  so  hopeless !  I  am  the  fiancee  of 
another  man.  Let  us  forget  these  insane  words ;  it  is  my  fault 
that  they  were  uttered. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Why  do  you  torture  me  so?  Haven't  I  been  on  the  rack 
ever  since  de  Semoule's  courtship  began?  Why  do  you  fill 
my  mind  with  miserable  doubts  of  you? 


DESIREE,  looking  into  his  eyes 

I  swear  to  you,  on  the  word  of  a  Crequy,  that  though  I  am 
wretched  I  am  doing  no  wrong.     Don't  you  believe  me? 


DE  BEAUVOIR 

How  can  I  help  believing  you,  when  you  speak  to  me  in  a 
certain  voice?  I  am  no  longer  mad;  don't  be  afraid  that  I 
shall  lose  my  head  twice.  Accept  a  word  of  advice  from  me 
— let  no  man  bind  you  to  secrecy,  and  tell  your  trouble  to  de 
Beziers  before  you  sleep.  He  is  a  safer  father  confessor  for 
you  than  I  am.  Perhaps  some  day  you  will  realize  what  it 

164 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

costs  me  to  reject  the  office.  Dieu  vous  garde,  mademoiselle. 
(Goes  towards  door  on  right  as  MRS.  WESTERN  and  DE  SE- 
MOULE  enter  it.) 

MRS.    WESTERN    to  DE   BEAUVOIR 

Well,  of  all  perjured  persons  you  are  the  worst !  We  have 
had  time  to  build  a  cairn  with  garden  gravel  for  the  ancestor's 
feet  while  you  were  supposed  to  be  fetching  her  footstool. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

I've  such  a  poor  memory ! 

MRS.    WESTERN 

You  had  better  go  and  apologize  while  I  make  tea.  No, 
she  won't  need  one  now.  She's  in  a  good  humor,  and  is  talk 
ing  archaic  scandal  with  a  neighboring  antiquity  who  has  come 
to  call. 

(Exit  DE  BEAUVOIR) 

Enter  BAPTISTS  with  the  tea  service,  which  he  places  on  the 
bamboo  table,  then  lights  the  lamp  under  the  kettle,  and 
waits  on  right. 

DE  SEMOULE 

Can  I  assist  you,  Madame?  Permit  me.  (Puts  three  scanty 
spoonfuls  of  tea  into  the  pot.) 

165 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

MRS.    WESTERN 

Twice  as  much  more,  if  you  please.  If  yours  is  the  French 
method  of  making  tea,  I  don't  wonder  that  Balzac  called  it 
"an  insipid  and  melancholy  beverage."  Desiree,  come  here 
and  help  me.  Comte,  there's  a  draught  on  the  lamp.  (MRS. 
WESTERN  seats  herself  at  the  table,  DESIREE  crosses  to  right, 
and  DE  SEMOULE  closes  the  French  window.) 

MRS.    WESTERN    to   DESIREE 

What  is  the  matter  with  de  Beauvoir?  Has  he  said  any 
thing?  Really,  it  isn't  fair  of  you !  He  was  destined  to  be  my 
prey,  and  you've  been  poaching  on  my  preserves.  I  shall  have 
to  fall  back  on  the  Vicomte,  if  he  isn't  too  much  damaged! 
Where  is  he? 

DESIREE,  hurriedly 
I  must  speak  to  you.     Get  rid  of  them,  please. 

MRS.    WESTERN 

Comte,  go  and  ask  the  Marquise  how  many  cups  of  tea  I 
am  to  send  out,  and  what  fauna  and  flora  she  will  take  with 
it  to-day.  Thanks  so  much.  (Exit  DE  SEMOULE  by  window 
on  right.)  Baptiste,  go  and  hunt  on  the  lawn  for  a  powder-puff 
rolled  up  in  a  lace  handkerchief.  If  you  don't  find  it  there, 
search  the  garden ;  if  it's  not  in  the  garden,  examine  the  urns 
on  the  terrace,  and  then,  if  you  don't  succeed,  try  the  fountain 
— and  be  thorough,  Baptiste.  (Exit  BAPTISTE  on  right.) 
Now,  my  dear,  unfold;  they'll  be  gone  some  time.  It  will 

1 66 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

take  your  obsolete  relative  fully  five  minutes  to  decide  on  the 
particular  pharmaceutical  delicacy  she'll  qualify  her  tea  with 
to-day,  and  as  for  Baptiste —  (Shows  the  handkerchief  tucked 
into  her  sleeve.)  It  will  do  him  good.  Stooping  is  excellent 
to  reduce  the  stomach.  Divulge — I  am  all  ears. 

DESIREE 

Lucy,  promise  me  that  you  will  never  tell. 

MRS.    WESTERN 

Never?     I  solemnly  promise  not  to  do  so  until  you  have 
told  all  your  friends  first. 

DESIREE 

Don't  jest;  it's  tragic  enough  to  me.     I  am  engaged,  and  I 
want  you  to  lend  me  five  thousand  francs. 

MRS.  WESTERN,  smiling 
To  de  Beauvoir?     To  buy  the  ring  with? 

DESIREE 

No;  to  Edme  de  Semoule. 

MRS.    WESTERN 

Grands  dieux!  as  you  say.     What  for? 

167 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE 

Not  to  amuse  myself,  I  assure  you.  I  can't  explain,  but  we 
need  protection,  and  he  can  help  us. 

MRS.    WESTERN 

Can't  you  obtain  it  in  any  other  way?  Marriage  lasts  a 
long  time,  especially  in  this  country,  my  little  Desiree.  And 
if  it  is  de  Semoule,  why  do  you  need  money? 

DESIREE 

For  something  else.  I  cannot  ask  any  one  but  you.  Don't 
question  me  about  it,  but  if  you  can,  let  me  have  it. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

You  shall  have  it,  my  dear,  to-morrow  or  next  day. 

DESIREE 

I  need  it  at  once — to-night. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

It  is  fortunate  that  I  cashed  a  cheque  on  Monday.  Come 
to  my  room  before  dinner,  and  I'll  have  it  ready  for  you. 
Mum's  the  word,  of  course.  When  did  the  betrothal  take 
place? 

DESIREE 
An  hour  ago. 

1 68 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Is  this  the  mean,  furtive  way  in  which  alliances  are  arranged  ? 
I  expected  a  trumpeting  herald  on  horseback  to  demand  the 
hand  of  the  haulte  et  puissante  damoiselle  de  Crequy,  or  at 
least  the  grenadier  aunt  in  a  post-chaise,  surrounded  by  Breton 
henchmen  with  bangs  and  bagpipes.  And  where  are  the  sacks 
of  gold  and  the  contracts  to  sign  and  seal,  and  the  faithful 
retainers  carousing  on  the  lawn,  and  the  mayors  and  the  no 
taries,  and  the  corbeillesf  Well,  French  nobility  has  degener 
ated.  Desiree,  I  am  disappointed  in  you. 

DESIREE 

Patience,  my  dear;  we'll  have  them  all  later.  Granny  and 
Monsieur  de  Semoule  have  only  just  settled  it. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Without  consulting  you? 

DESIREE 

She  told  me  of  it  immediately  afterwards. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

And  you  accepted  without  any  shilly-shally?  Well,  we  fast 
Americans  go  by  slower  stages  in  the  affairs  of  the  heart.  De 
Semoule  is  well  bred,  well  broken,  has  an  unimpeachable  pedi 
gree,  and  fetches  and  carries  to  perfection.  And  he  has  as 
many  castles  as  Puss  in  Boots,  and  lots  of  ancestral  hardware  ? 

169 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DESIREE,  sadly 
Yes.     Every  one  will  be  delighted. 

MRS.  WESTERN,  rising 

Accept,  then,  my.  congratulations  and  my  best  wishes  for 
your  future  happiness.  (Embraces  DESIREE  formally,  and  sud 
denly  clasps  her  in  her  arms.)  My  dear  girl,  don't  marry  a 
man  you  can't  love.  Think  of  the  heaven  you  miss. 

DESIREE 

I  can't  do  otherwise.  I've  thought  it  over,  and,  as  you  say, 
Monsieur  de  Semoule  is — 

MRS.   WESTERN 

"Heavy,  heavy — damned  heavy."  Don't  be  shocked;  that's 
Pickwick.  You  know  de  Semoule  wearies  you,  and  indeed  he 
is  a  most  palpable  bore. 

DESIREE 
Don't,  Lucy;  you're  speaking  of  my  fiance. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Don't  let  them  coax  or  bully  you  into  a  loveless  marriage. 
Fight — resist;  I'll  help  you. 

170 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DESIREE 

You  don't  understand;  it  is  of  my  own  free  will  that  I 
marry  him. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

I  give  you  up.  I  don't  understand  you.  Perhaps  it  is  be 
cause  you  are  such  a  mixture;  I  never  can  tell  which  element 
will  be  uppermost — the  French  or  the  American.  And  some 
times  one  predominates,  sometimes  the  other. 

DESIREE 

You  mean  that  I  have  a  piebald  character.  Perhaps  you  are 
right. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

With  due  respect  to  you,  my  dear,  I  should  put  it  in  a  pret 
tier  way.  What  do  you  call  variegated  ice-cream  in  French? 
I've  forgotten. 

DESIREE 

Panachee? 

MRS.   WESTERN 

That's  it.  You  have  a  panachee  nature,  and  I  can  only 
sympathize  with  the  American  half.  Oh,  my  kettle!  How 
sad  it  is  that  whenever  we  try  to  philosophize  and  rise  into 
the  pure  ether  of  abstract  thought,  some  material  kettle  always 
boils  over!  (Returns  to  the  table,  sits  down,  and  pours  out 
the  tea.)  If  you  change  your  mind,  even  after  the  cadi  and 
the  scrivener  arrive,  I'll  stand  by  you. 

171 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 
Enter  DE  SEMOULE,  followed  by  BAPTISTE,  mopping  his  face 


BAPTISTE 

Madame,  I  have  searched  everywhere.  I  fear  that  the  dog 
of  mademoiselle  has  eaten  the  handkerchief  of  madame. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Let  us  hope  that  it  will  not  give  him  a  false  digestion,  as  you 
say.  Take  out  this  tea  and  the  rum,  and  the  araki,  and  the 
orange-flower  water  to  the  marquise.  (To  DE  SEMOULE.)  I 
won't  mix  them  myself.  The  result  looks  too  much  like  an 
aquarium  to  seem  wholesome.  Baptiste,  don't  forget  Monsieur 
de  Beauvoir's  absinthe.  And  you — what  can  I  do  for  you? 

DE  SEMOULE 

No  tea,  thank  you.  I  have  already  had  a  madere  and  a 
madcleine.  Monsieur  de  Beziers  is  just  returning,  I  think. 

Enter  DE  BEZIERS.    Kisses  DESIREE  on  the  forehead,  and 
shakes  hands  with  DE  SEMOULE 

DESIREE 

Lucy,  may  I  present  the  cousin  of  whom  I  have  so  often 
talked  with  you?  Mrs.  Western,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  de 
Beziers. 

DE  BEZIERS  takes  the  hand  which  MRS.  WESTERN  extends  to 
him  and  puts  it  to  his  lips,  then  shakes  it  awkwardly 

172 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 


MRS.   WESTERN 

I  was  deeply  interested  in  your  family  all  last  winter,  and 
there  is  so  much  that  I  want  to  ask  you  about.  But  first  let 
me  give  you  some  tea. 

DE  BEZIERS 

Tea!  (Aside.)  Quelle  drogue!  (Aloud.)  No,  thank 
you,  Madame;  I  am  quite  well.  What  good  fairy  has  awak 
ened  your  interest  in  the  de  Beziers  ? 

MRS.   WESTERN 

A  glass  of  Malaga  and  a  cake,  then,  Vicomte.  I  sup 
pose  tea  is  an  innovation  despised  by  the  ancien  regime  peo 
ple.  I  belong  to  a  history  class,  and  last  winter  we  studied 
mediaeval  France,  and,  as  you  know,  the  de  Crequy  and  the 
de  Beziers  were  always  doing  the  most  exciting  things. 
(Pours  out  a  glass  of  wine  for  DE  BEZIERS  and  gives  it  to  him.) 
Is  it  true  that  an  ancestor  of  yours  broke  the  nose  of  King 
Richard  at  Fontevrault  in  revenge  for  that- — unpleasantness  at 
Chaluz? 

DE  BEZIERS,  aside 

She  begins  well !  To  recall  to  me  the  only  Beziers  who  was 
ever  hanged!  (Aloud.)  It  is  a  family  legend,  Madame. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Desiree  tells  me  that  your  castle  of  La  Ferte  still  retains  the 
archers'  walk  around  the  walls. 

173 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DE  BEZIERS 

I  hope  that  some  day  you  will  do  me  the  honor  to  make  the 
tour  of  it,  Madame.     I  have  some  portraits  there,  also — 


MRS.   WESTERN 

Yes ;  I  have  read  of  them,  and  I  am  most  anxious  to  see  the 
one  of  Agnes  Sorel.     They  say  it  is  prettier  than  Fouquet's. 


DE  BEZIERS 

But,  Madame,  it  is  you  who  will  have  to  be  my  guide  there. 
You  know  my  possessions  better  than  I  do. 


MRS.   WESTERN 

You  Frenchmen  are  such  flatterers !  I  am  glad  that  I  took 
that  history  course,  though;  with  the  stereopticon  views,  it 
makes  Touraine,  and  the  old  families,  and  the  antiquities  much 
more  fascinating  (DE  BEZIERS  grimaces.  She  perceives  it  and 
continues) — though  there  are  some  people  and  some  things 
which  have  so  much  intrinsic  charm  that  it  seems  hardly  fair 
that  they  should  also  possess  that  which  association  lends  them. 


DE  BEZIERS,  aside 

Elle  tache  de  me  faire  oublier  mon  pendu,  et  elle  s'y  prend 
gentiment. 

174 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREOUY 


MRS.   WESTERN 

I  have  heard  that  you  continue  the  family  tradition,  and  have 
also  been  a  soldier. 

DE  BEZIERS 

In  '70,  of  course;  what  Frenchman  was  not  one  then?  In 
Senegal  also,  and  when  I  was  a  youngster  I  made  the  Sicilian 
campaign  with  the  "Thousand." 

MRS.  WESTERN,  rising  and  seizing  DE  BEZIERS'S  hand 

You  were  with  Garibaldi?  This  is  the  most  exciting  mo 
ment  of  my  life!  I  must  shake  hands  with  you.  Sit  down 
and  tell  me  all  about  it!  Is  it  true  that  you  were  warned  be 
forehand  of  all  Bomba's  movements? 


DE  BEZIERS,  somewhat  embarrassed  yet  charmed,  begins 
to  narrate  his  Sicilian  adventures 


DE  SEMOULE  to  DESIREE 

Madame  de  Crequy  has  told  you,  Mademoiselle? 

DESIREE 

Yes ;  and  I  accept,  Monsieur. 

DE  SEMOULE 

What  adorable  frankness! 

175 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE 

I  hope  that  you  will  continue  to  find  it  adorable,  for  I  desire 
to  be  always  frank  with  you.  Let  us  try  to  be  good  friends, 
monsieur  mon  fiance. 

DE  SEMOULE 

Only  friends?     Something  more,  I  hope. 

DESIREE 

I  want  a  friend  more  than  I  do  a  lover. 

DE    SEMOULE 

I  will  be  both  if  you  will  let  me.  And  this  marriage  pleases 
you,  does  it  not? 

Enter  THE  MARQUISE  and  DE  BEAUVOIR.     The 
dressing-bell  rings 

THE    MARQUISE 

Run  along,  my  children.  Go  and  make  yourselves  beauti 
ful,  and  don't  be  too  late.  We  have  some  aborigines  to  dinner 
who  will  appear  on  the  stroke  of  eight.  I  hope  they  haven't 
neglected  you,  cousin.  As  I  need  more  repairs  than  any  of 
the  rest,  I'll  leave  you  without  ceremony. 

Goes  up-stairs  and  exit  by  door  on  left  of  landing 

176 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE   BEAUVOIR    to   DESIREE 

You  are  better?  Please  tell  him  to-night;  it  is  the  only 
favor  I  ask  of  you. 

DESIREE 

I  can't.     Don't  blame  me,  and  don't  think  ill  of  me. 

DE  BEAUVOIR  turns  away.  DESIREE  goes  up-stairs,  dropping 
the  letter  from  her  belt  as  she  does  so,  and  disappears  on 
the  landing  to  right. 

DE  BEAUVOIR  and  DE  SEMOULE  talk  together  on  the  left 

MRS.   WESTERN 

You  are  too  fascinating  to  leave,  Vicomte,  but  I  must  de- 
materialize.  Thank  you  so  much ;  it  is  only  a  Frenchman  who 
can  talk  really  well  about  himself. 

DE  BEZIERS 

I  have  been  very  egotistical,  Madame.  After  dinner  I  hope 
that  you  will  permit  me  to  question  you  in  my  turn.  I  have 
always  been  interested  in  the  New  World,  though  I  possess 
only  old  books  on  the  subject.  Fenimore  Cooper  and  Cha 
teaubriand  early  aroused  my  interest  in  the  Indians,  and  I 
should  like  to  know  more  of  them.  Do  they  mix  socially 
with  the  whites,  or  do  they  constitute  a  society  apart  ?  Do  you 
visit  many  Indian  families? 

177 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 


MRS.  WESTERN 

I  never  saw  an  Indian  in  my  life,  except  the  basket  Indians 
at  Saratoga  and  other  watering-places. 

DE  BEZIERS,  meditatively 

I  never  heard  of  the  basket  tribe,  but  if,  as  you  say,  the 
Indians  now  frequent  watering-places,  they  have  certainly 
changed  much  since  the  days  of  Uncas. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

It  will  take  too  long  to  explain  how  much.  By  the  way, 
what  is  this  hunt — this  rallye  papier — for  to-morrow  morning? 

DE  SEMOULE 

It  is  merely  an  excuse  for  a  gallop.  You  call  it  a  paper  hunt 
in  English. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

And  in  American? 

DE  BEZIERS 

I  doubt  if  you  have  anything  so  tame  in  the  country  of 
great  lakes  and  boundless  prairies,  where  you  hunt  the  bison 
and  the  grizzly — 

MRS.   WESTERN 

And  the  aniseed  bag. 

178 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE    SEMOULE 

You  can,  however,  break  your  neck  at  a  paper  hunt  if  you 
will. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

You  reassure  me — but  how  ?     Describe  the  manner  of  it. 

DE    SEMOULE 

It  is  a  hunt  with  a  human  fox.  For  instance,  to-morrow 
I  play  the  role  of  Renard,  and  lead  the  chase  through  the  forest, 
with  a  bag  filled  with  scraps  of  paper  on  my  back.  I  have 
an  hour's  start;  I  double,  make  detours,  and  follow  as  cir 
cuitous  a  course  as  I  can,  scattering  from  time  to  time  a  hand 
ful  of  the  scraps.  An  hour  or  so  later  the  hunt  follows,  and 
tracks  me  by  means  of  them. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

It  sounds  amusing,  and  almost  reconciles  me  to  rising  at 
five  o'clock  to-morrow. 

DE  BEZIERS 

May  I  be  your  cavalier? 

MRS.   WESTERN 

I  have  already  accepted  the  escort  of  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir. 
I  can't  say  that  I  regret  it,  as  he  is  within  earshot.  Au  revoir, 
tout  le  monde. 

(Exit  by  staircase  and  door  on  left  of  landing) 
179 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

DE  BEZIERS,  follozving  her 
A  bientot,  messieurs. 

(Exit  by  door  on  right  of  landing) 

DE  SEMOULE  to  DE  BEAUVOIR 

One  moment ;  if  you  are  to  escort  Madame  Western,  you  will 
need  a  few  directions.  You  are  neither  of  you  at  home  in  the 
forest.  Let  me  make  you  a  rough  map  of  it. 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

You  know  it,  then? 

DE    SEMOULE 

As  well  as  my  own  park.  If  I  had  a  bit  of  paper —  (Looks 
on  the  table.)  I  believe  every  scrap  in  the  house  has  gone 
into  my  bag.  (Sees  DESIREE'S  letter  lying  on  the  stairs.) 
This  will  do.  (Smooths  it  out,  and,  laying  it  on  the  table, 
begins,  without  opening  it,  to  draw  on  the  blank  side  of  the 
sheet.  DE  BEAUVOIR  leans  over  him.)  Here  are  the  cross 
roads;  be  sure  to  keep  to  the  right  of  that  clump  of  beeches; 
there  's  a  bad  piece  of  ground  between  them  and  the  clearing. 
Leave  the  brook  on  your  left  when  you  turn  here.  There! 
you  can't  get  lost  with  that,  unless  in  such  charming  company 
you  should  desire  to  do  so.  We  ought  to  finish  before  the 
sun  is  too  high.  (Gives  DE  BEAUVOIR  the  map.) 

DE   BEAUVOIR 

We  leave  here  at  half  after  five  o'clock.     What  an  hour! 

1 80 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE  SEMOULE 

It's  too  warm  to  ride  late  in  the  day  in  this  hothouse  of  a 
Touraine.  Pity  me.  I  start  at  four  o'clock. 

DE   BEAUVOIR 

So  early? 

DE  SEMOULE 

Yes.  Remember  that  with  my  detours  and  doubling  I  go 
over  the  ground  three  times.  I'm  off.  Au  revoir. 

(Exit  by  door  on  right  of  landing) 

DE  BEAUVOIR  examines  the  paper  and  turns  it  over  carelessly, 
sees  and  reads  the  letter  on  the  reverse  of  the  sheet.  Puts 
it  down,  passes  his  hand  over  his  eyes,  and  then  re-reads  the 
letter  and  presses  his  fists  to  his  temples. 

DE   BEAUVOIR 

Wait  a  moment!  Let  me  be  quite  sure.  She  was  reading 
this  when  I  came  in.  Yes,  and  she  said  something  about  five 
thousand  francs  and  needing  a  friend.  She  couldn't  tell  de 
Beziers — no — that  would  be  betraying  a  trust.  (Laughs  bit 
terly.  )  And  she  looked  into  my  eyes  and  lied !  How  can 
she  be  so  false  with  such  a  face!  And  I  would  have  sworn 
that  she  was  candor  itself!  La  coquine,  la  drblesse!  To 
lie  with  such  good  eyes!  It  is  not  possible!  To  have  given 
the  treasure  of  herself  to  this  whining  cur.  (Looks  again  at 
the  letter.)  "The  sacrifices  you  have  made  for  me  in  the  past/' 

181 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

I  must  not  think  of  them.  Such  thoughts  lead  to  the  mad 
house.  Bah!  She  isn't  worth  it.  "You  have  been  very 
wicked,  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir" — and  I  could  have  knelt  to  her ! 
Well,  well,  the  woman  I  loved  never  existed  except  in  my 
own  fancy.  It's  none  of  my  affair,  and  this  is  her  property. 
She'll  soon  miss  it.  (Rubs  out  the  map  on  the  back  of  the 
sheet  and  replaces  the  letter  on  the  stairs.) 

Goes  to  window  on  right  and  waits.  Enter  DESIREE,  looking 
anxiously  about;  she  picks  up  the  letter,  and  slips  it  into  the 
front  of  her  gown. 

DE  BEAUVOIR  watches  her,  unseen 


182 


ACT  II 

Same  scene,  quite  dark  except  for  a  small  night-lamp  on 
the  table. 

Enter  DESIREE  in  a  long  cloak  with  a  hood.  She  goes  quietly 
down-stairs,  opens  the  window  and  steps  out,  closing  it  as 
well  as  she  can  from  the  outside.  As  she  leaves  the  window, 
enter  DE  BEAUVOIR  softly  from  the  door  of  his  room.  He  re 
mains  on  the  landing  a  moment,  and  then  disappears  through 
the  same  door. 

The  stage  remains  vacant  a  few  seconds. 

A  bell  rings;  the  barking  of  dogs,  the  opening  and  shutting 
of  doors,  are  heard  outside. 

Enter  BAPTISTS,  carrying  a  candle  and  a  telegram.  Looks 
at  the  ill-closed  window,  shakes  his  head,  and  shuts  it. 
Goes  up-stairs  and  knocks  at  door  on  right. 

BAPTISTE 

Monsieur  le  Vicomte !  (Muffled  imprecations  from  the  other 
side  of  the  door.)  Yes,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte,  a  telegram. 
Pardon,  will  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  have  the  goodness  to  repeat  ? 
I  am  a  damned  imbecile?  Bien!  Monsieur  le  Vicomte.  From 
the  ministry,  and  the  messenger  is  hurried,  extremely  hur- 

183 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

ried,  Monsieur  le  Vicomte.  A  special  message  from  Ver 
sailles — from —  Where  did  Monsieur  le  Vicomte  tell  me  to 
go  to?  Ah!  I  am  mute,  dumb  as  a  carp.  Is  there  any  an 
swer?  I  am  putting  it  under  the  door.  None?  I  am  retiring 
without  saying  a  word,  though  I  found  that  those  lazy  valets 
had  left  the  windows  open,  and  we  might  have  been  pillaged 
and  assassinated.  Do  I  hear?  Fifty  francs'  pourboire  to  the 
messenger.  (Goes  down-stairs  grumbling.)  Ah!  no,  that  is 
not  just.  Fifty  francs  for  a  young  man,  almost  a  boy,  who 
has  only  taken  the  trouble  to  saddle  a  horse  and  carry  a  tele 
gram.  It's  too  much.  And  I,  who  have  risen,  dressed,  and 
brought  that  same  telegram  up  all  these  stairs,  do  not  even 
receive  a  thank  you.  fa  ne  se  passera  pas  comme  fa.  Twenty 
francs  will  be  amply  sufficient  for  that  young  man ;  the  rest  is 
my  commission.  Take  service  with  the  great  if  you  desire  in 
gratitude.  I  rise,  dress,  climb  many  stairs,  and  am  sent  to 
the  devil  for  my  pains.  It  is  enough  to  make  one  turn  re 
publican  ! 

(Exit  BAPTISTE) 


Re  enter  DE  BEAUVOIR  from  his  room  on  the  landing.    He 
looks  at  his  watch  and  then  opens  the  window 

Enter  DESIREE,  panting 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Hurry,  Mademoiselle !    De  Semoule  may  be  down  any  mo 
ment.     Quick,  or  you  will  be  discovered! 

184 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DESIREE 

I  am  already,  it  seems.     Why  are  you  here? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

To  save  you  from  the  consequences  of  your  folly. 

DESIREE,  haughtily 

You  are  very  good,  I  am  sure.  Since  when  have  my  affairs 
become  your  concern? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Since  your  letter  fell  into  my  hands.  Don't  try  to  justify 
yourself !  Spare  me  the  pain  of  putting  you  to  the  blush. 

DESIREE 

But  I  have  done  nothing  to  blush  for.  Did  I  not  give  you 
my  word  that  I  was  doing  no  wrong? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Yes;  with  a  look  of  such  divine  innocence  that  I  longed  to 
throw  myself  at  your  feet.  My  heart  strives  to  believe  you 
even  now  when  you  speak  to  me,  when  you  look  into  my  eyes ; 
but  how  can  I  with  that  letter  seared  into  my  memory?  You 
say  you  are  wretched.  You  don't  know  what  misery  is !  You 
haven't  seen  your  idol  broken — not  only  broken,  but  defiled. 
You  don't  realize  what  you  were  to  me;  you  don't  know  what 
you  stood  for.  Ah!  Go,  go! 

185 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DESIREE 

Not  until  you  think  better  of  me.  Promise  me  to  suspend 
your  judgment  until  I  am  able  to  explain  my  actions.  I  shall 
be,  some  day. 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Have  mercy  on  me,  Mademoiselle !  Do  not  try  to  brazen  it 
out.  Leave  me  one  poor  rag  of  illusion.  Let  me  think  of  you 
as  misled  by  your  love  for  one  unworthy  of  you.  It  has 
been  agony  enough  to  have  proved  you  weak  and  light;  do 
not  let  me  find  you  impudent  as  well. 

DESIREE,  indignantly 
How  dare  you ! 

DE  BEAUVOIR,  sternly 

Remember  that  I  have  read  your  lover's  letter — that  I  saw 
you  go  to  your  appointment. 

DESIREE,  loudly  and  angrily 
I — a  lover!     I!     You  lie,  Jacques  de  Beauvoir — you  lie! 

Enter  DE  SEMOULE  from  door  on  right  of  landing 

DE  SEMOULE,  running  down-stairs 

What  is  the  matter  ?  De  Beauvoir !  Mademoiselle !  What 
does  this  mean? 

1 86 


r 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

I  have  just  met  Mademoiselle,  who  has  this  moment  returned 
from  the  stables,  where  she  has  been  dosing  Snob,  who  is  sick. 

DE  SEMOULE 

And  why  are  you  here? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

I  unfortunately  mislaid  the  map  you  made  me,  and  came 
down  here  to  waylay  you  for  further  information. 


DE  SEMOULE, 

Why  didn't  you  come  to  my  room? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

I  was  afraid  of  awaking  our  neighbors. 

DE    SEMOULE 

Mademoiselle  Desiree,  will  you  kindly  go  up-stairs  imme 
diately?  The  next  time  your  dog  needs  attention  at  such  an 
unseemly  hour  you  will  be  good  enough  to  delegate  the  care  of 
it  to  one  of  the  grooms. 

DESIREE 

Monsieur  de  Semoule,  you  have  not  yet  acquired  the  right 
to  use  this  tone  to  me,  and  when  I  have  told  you  the  real  cause 

187 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

of  my  presence  here  you  will  probably  never  care  to  possess 
that  right.  (To  DE  BEAUVOIR.)  No,  Monsieur,  I  will  not 
allow  a  gentleman  who  has  such  a  horror  of  untruths  to  shield 
me  with  any  more  falsehoods.  (  To  DE  SEMOULE.  )  Monsieur 
met  me  two  minutes  ago  as  I  was  entering  this  window.  He 
assumed  that  my  absence  from  the  house  was  due  to  some  dis 
honorable  motive.  I  assured  him  that  I  had  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of,  and  that  some  day  I  hoped  to  explain  matters. 
He  continued  to  doubt  my  word,  and — 

DE  SEMOULE 

Pardi,  that  doesn't  astonish  me!  Now,  Mademoiselle,  / 
request  you  to  justify  yourself  to  Monsieur  and  to  myself  at 
once  by  solving  this  mystery. 

DESIREE 

Unhappily,  I  cannot.  I  have  promised  secrecy  to  another 
person. 

DE  SEMOULE 

But  you  had  no  right  to  do  so;  it  is  your  duty  to  speak.  I 
command  you! 

DESIREE 

And  I  refuse  to  obey  you.  If  you  cared  for  me,  you  would 
accept  my  simple  assertion,  unsupported  by  evidence. 

DE  SEMOULE,  taking  DESIREE  aside 

You  don't  realize  what  you  are  asking  of  me.  It  is  fright 
ful  to  live  in  ignorance  of  the  acts  of  the  woman  one  loves! 

1 88 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

I  want  to  have  you  all  to  myself,  to  know  your  thoughts  even, 
and  you  coolly  declare  that  you  have  a  secret  understanding 
with  some  one  else !  Can't  you  comprehend  the  unreason,  the 
cruelty  of  it?  I  ask  for  nothing  that  I  am  not  more  than 
ready  to  give.  But  while  I  would  gladly  abandon  my  whole 
life  to  your  scrutiny,  you  are,  at  the  cost  of  your  reputation, 
hiding  something  from  me.  Desiree,  when  you  gave  me  your 
hand  you  resigned  your  independence;  you  no  longer  belong 
to  yourself. 

DESIREE  shakes  her  head  and  turns  from  him 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Let  us  respect  her  secret.  Don't  torment  her.  She  is 
probably  more  sinned  against  than  sinning.  Mademoiselle, 
pray  go ! 

DE  SEMOULE 

No;  I  insist  upon  an  explanation.  I  will  not  allow  her  to 
remain  mute  under  such  imputations.  Mademoiselle,  if  you 
have  done  wrong,  you  owe  it  to  me  to  confess  it;  if  not,  your 
duty  to  yourself  obliges  you  to  speak. 

DESIREE 

And  my  duty  to  some  one  whom  I  love  better  than  either 
compels  me  to  remain  silent. 

DE  BEAUVOIR,  taking  her  hand 

One  who  loves  you  would  prefer  to  have  you  clear  yourself. 
I  entreat  you  to  speak! 

189 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

DE  SEMOULE,  taking  the  other  hand 
As  your  fiance,  I  order  you  to  speak ! 

Enter  DE  BEZIERS  from  door  on  right  of  landing,  with  a  tele 
gram  in  his  hand;  he  looks  down  on  the  group  below 

DE  BEZIERS 

What  has  happened  now?  (Runs  down-stairs.)  Gentle 
men,  unhand  my  cousin !  What  is  it,  Desiree  ? 

DESIREE 
They  are  insisting  that  I  shall  tell  them  where  I  have  been. 

DE  BEZIERS 

And  where  have  you  been? 

DESIREE 

You,  too?  Cousin,  forgive  me;  I  can't  tell  you.  I  have 
given  my  word. 

DE  BEZIERS 

But,  my  dear  child,  you  are  in  a  very  compromising  situ 
ation.  I  absolve  you  from  any  promise  that  you  have  made 
to  anybody.  (Patting  her  hand.)  Collect  yourself,  and  tell 
us.  I  am  sure  it  can't  be  very  bad.  ( To  DE  BEAUVOIR,  hand 
ing  him  the  telegram.)  Here's  a  line  in  my  despatch  which  con- 

190 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

cerns  you.  I  regret  to  be  the  bearer  of  evil  tidings.  Come, 
Desiree,  our  friend  here  must  start  immediately  for  Marseilles, 
and  I  can't  have  him  leave  you  in  this  doubtful  position.  Ex 
plain  at  once ! 

DESIREE 

I  cannot !     I  must  not ! 

DE    BEZIERS 

Evasion  only  harms  you,  Desiree,  and  inclines  us  to  believe 
that  you  have  something  to  conceal. 

DESIREE 

How  often  have  I  told  you  that  I  have  promised  secrecy? 
I  must  stand  to  my  word  as  you  would  to  yours.  Are  prom 
ises  to  be  held  sacred  only  as  long  as  it  is  pleasant  to  do  so? 
You  are  noble — have  you  no  idea  of  honor,  of  keeping  faith 
with  the  helpless  ?  You  are  gentlemen,  and  yet  you  are  ready 
to  believe  that  a  carefully  nurtured  gentlewoman — no,  what  is 
better,  an  honest  girl  whom  you  have  always  found  truthful — 
is  deceiving  you  for  some  shameful  reason.  I  do  not  under 
stand  what  baseness  you  suspect  me  of.  Your  doubts  would 
crush  me  if  I  did  not  despise  them.  Monsieur  de  Semoule, 
I  give  you  back  your  word.  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir,  you  have 
insulted  one  who  is  defenceless.  My  cousin,  I  looked  to  you 
for  vindication,  and  you  have  put  me  to  shame.  Oh,  why 
don't  you  believe  in  me!  Is  there  not  something  irresistibly 
convincing  in  the  accent  of  truth?  Can  you  look  in  my  face 
and  doubt  me? 

191 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

Enter  MRS.  WESTERN,  in  a  peignoir,  from  room  on 
left  of  landing 

MRS.  WESTERN,  leaning  over  the  rail 

No;  I  can't,  and  I  don't  believe  they  can,  either.  (Coming 
down-stairs.)  Whatever  you  have  stated,  Desiree,  I'll  swear 
is  true.  But  what  is  the  matter?  (To  DE  SEMOULE.)  It 
is  quite  time  you  started.  Desiree,  why  are  you  not  dressed? 
(Glancing  at  the  telegram.)  Bad  news?  I  am  interrupting 
a  family  council,  I  fear.  Shall  I  go,  or  can  I  be  of  use? 

Enter  THE  MARQUISE  in  a  morning  deshabille  and  a 
laced  cap 

THE    MARQUISE 

What's  all  this  noise?  I  thought  our  guests  had  arrived. 
Something  has  happened?  (Descends  the  stairs.)  What  do 
these  funereal  faces  mean?  Desiree,  why  are  you  here  in  this 
toilette? 

DESIREE,  in  grim  desperation 

I  was  obliged  to  go  out  at  three  o'clock,  and  when  I  re 
turned  these  gentlemen  met  me  and  wanted  to  know  where  I 
had  been. 

THE    MARQUISE 

What?  Is  she  crazy?  It  is  inconceivable!  Nothing  like 
this  has  ever  happened  here  before.  (To  DE  BEZIERS.)  My 
cousin,  do  you  call  this  decent?  Is  it  a  practical  joke?  Have 

192 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

you  the  answer  to  this  riddle?     (Talks  with  DE  BEZIERS,  who 
draws  her  aside.) 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Was  it  to  gather  May  dew  for  the  complexion — I  hear 
you  do  it  here — or  to  pay  a  bill,  Desiree?  Never  mind;  I'll 
stand  by  you  if  the  ancestress  is  unpleasant. 

THE  MARQUISE,  shaking  DESIREE  by  the  shoulder 

Finish  this  pleasantry;  you  can't  understand  to  what  mis 
construction  it  exposes  you. 

DESIREE,  sullenly 

I  cannot.  You  are  the  last  person  who  should  desire  me  to 
speak. 

THE    MARQUISE 

Heinf  But  this  is  absurd!  And  she  looks  as  though  she 
were  in  earnest!  Speak. 

DESIREE,  calmly 
It  is  impossible! 

THE  MARQUISE 

Nom  d'un  petit  bonhomme! — and  yet  I  haven't  the  habit  of 
swearing.  But  you  announce  this  enormity  to  me  with  such 
calmness !  It  is  too  inhuman  to  endanger  the  honor  of  a  fam 
ily  with  such  tranquillity.  These  are  the  manners  of  Sioux! 
Perhaps  they  are  American,  I  do  not  know.  What  can  I  say 

193 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

to  you?     Mon  Dieu,  mon  Dieu,  I  have  borne  much,  but  this 
cross  is  too  heavy  for  me! 


DESIREE,  bursting  into  tears  and  throwing  herself  into 
MRS.  WESTERN'S  arms 

Lucy,  Lucy,  take  me  away.     Not  one  of  my  own  people 
trusts  me! 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

Madame  cle  Crequy,  I  have  the  honor  to  ask  you  for  the 
hand  of  Mademoiselle. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Bravo !     Athos  is  still  alive ! 


THE  MARQUISE 

Monsieur,  this  is  very  precipitate. 

DE  BEAUVOIR   to   DESIREE 

Mademoiselle,  I  believe  you.  I  have  no  proofs,  but  I  am 
convinced  that  yours  are  the  accents  of  truth.  Give  me  the 
right  to  defend  that  belief. 

DESIREE 

How  can  I  thank  you  for  your  faith  in  me? 

194 


THE    HONOR    OF   THE    CREQUY 


MRS.   WESTERN 

By  complying  with  Amadis's  request,  my  dear!  You're 
surely  not  going  to  let  this  romance  go  out  of  the  family.  It's 
real  Dumas;  give  him  your  hand,  and  let  us  sing  a  Te  Deum. 

DESIREE 

I  cannot  so  ill  repay  your  generosity  as  to  profit  by  it.  I 
have  been  smirched  by  insinuations,  suspicions — 

Enter  from  window  on  left  RENE  DE  CREQUY 

RENE 

Who  suspects  my  sister?  My  little  knight,  how  faithful 
you  were  to  me ! 

DESIREE 

Oh,  why  did  ycu  return? 

RENE 

To  give  myself  up  and  suffer  the  chastisement  which  I  de 
serve.  After  you  left  me,  sccurette  cherie,  I  was  tempted  to 
take  one  last  look  at  the  old  house.  As  I  neared  the  open  win 
dow  I  heard  voices.  Pardon  me — I  listened.  Dear  one,  your 
fidelity  to  your  word,  your  mute  defence  of  me,  went  straight 
to  my  heart,  and  I  determined  to  deserve  your  love  by  redeem 
ing  my  honor.  Grandmother  (to  THE  MARQUISE),  I  won't 
ask  you  to  forgive  me  until  I  have  earned  your  pardon.  Cousin 
(to  DE  BEZIERS),  I  am  going  back  to  my  garrison,  will  you 


accompany  me? 


195 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

THE    MARQUISE 

Oh !  my  Rene,  what  will  they  do  to  you  ? 

DE  BEZIERS 

Nothing  very  dreadful,  for  the  law  of  amnesty  passes  to-day. 

RENE 

Good-by,  Desiree.  You  must  sustain  the  honor  of  the  Cre- 
quy  alone;  I  think  you  can. 

THE   MARQUISE 

But  you  at  least,  Rene,  will  explain  this  mystery.     (THE 

MARQUISE,     DE     BEZIERS,     DE    BEAUVOIR,     and     MRS.     WESTERN 

gather  about  RENE.) 

DE   SEMOULE    to   DESIREE 

Why  did  you  not  trust  me  ?    Can  you  forgive  my  suspicions  ? 

DESIREE,  smiling 

Indeed  I  can,  and  I  am  most  grateful  to  you.  To  them  I 
owe  my  knowledge  of  Monsieur  de  Beauvoir's  chivalry.  I 
could  thank  you  for  them. 

DE  SEMOULE 

Does  that  mean  that  all  is  finished  between  us? 

196 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DESIREE 

It  was  hardly  begun,  was  it? — and  certainly  did  not  go  far 
enough  to  spoil  our  old  friendship.  I  still  count  on  it,  Mon 
sieur  de  Semoule. 

DE  SEMOULE 

I  am  not  quite  resigned  enough  to  play  that  role  yet.  You 
have  never  cared  for  me,  then?  Do  you  think  that  I  have 
deserved  this? 

DESIREE 

No.  You  deserve  something  far  better — a  wife  who  loves 
you. 

DE  SEMOULE  turns  away  from  her,  then  goes  back 

Mademoiselle,  I  will  say  good-bye  to  you  now,  as  directly 
after  the  hunt  I  shall  go  back  to  Semoule,  and  I  may  not  see 
you  again  for  some  time.  I  will  write  to  Madame  de  Crequy. 
Accept  my  sincerest  vows  for  your  future  happiness.  ( To  the 
group  about  RENE.)  Au  revoir,  mesdames  et  messieurs. 

(Exit  DE  SEMOULE) 
DESIREE  loosens  her  cloak.    DE  BEAUVOIR  offers  to  assist  her 

DESIREE 

It's  done,  thanks.  You  haven't  congratulated  me  on  my 
rehabilitation,  nor  apologized  for  your  mistrust  of  me,  as  Mon 
sieur  de  Semoule  has  just  done. 

197 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

I  saw  that  he  had,  Mademoiselle,  and  that  you  were  most 
indulgent. 

DESIREE 

What  perspicacity !     It  was  his  reward  for  being  so  prompt. 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

He  had  every  reason  to  be,  Mademoiselle. 

DESIREE 

And  you? 

DE    BEAUVOIR 

I  confess,  to  my  shame,  I  regret  that  you  are  no  longer 
in  need  of  a  champion,  and  that  you  do  not  want  my  poor 
assistance. 

DESIREE 

But  I  do,  Monsieur,  and  you  promised  it  me,  and  for  a  long 
time.  I  still  hold  you  to  your  word  unless  you  offered  it  only 
out  of  pity. 

DE   BEAUVOIR 

Pity!  Yes,  it  was  out  of  pity — for  my  starving,  longing, 
desirous  self. 

DESIREE 

And  you  have  none  left  for  poor  me?  Must  I  instigate 
Granny  to  ask  your  intentions. 

198 


THE   HONOR   OF   THE   CREQUY 

DE  BEAUVOIR 

Ah!     Desiree,  Desiree! 

THE  MARQUISE  to  DE  BEZIERS 

Do  you  notice  that,  my  cousin  ?  Do  you  call  that  civilized  ? 
Are  we  in  Kamschatka  or  Chicago  ?  They  ignore  my  presence, 
they  defy  decorum!  How  are  we  to  end  this,  and  recall  de 
Semoule  ? 

DE  BEZIERS 

Wait  a  moment!  I  have  some  more  news  for  you  which 
has  just  reached  me  from  the  ministry.  The  bodies  of  de 
Beauvoir's  uncle  and  cousin  were  washed  ashore  with  the  wreck 
of  their  yacht  on  the  island  of  Sainte  Marguerite  yesterday. 
(THE  MARQUISE  crosses  herself.)  I  handed  the  telegram  to 
him  just  before  he  made  his  declaration. 

THE  MARQUISE 

As  I  was  about  to  say  when  you  interrupted  me,  cousin, 
I  hope  that  Desiree  has  given  de  Semoule  a  definite  dismissal. 
She  should  do  so  after  showing  her  preference  for  Monsieur 
de  Beauvoir  with  such  barbaric  frankness.  How  chivalrous 
it  was  of  him  to  come  to  the  rescue  as  he  did,  and  to  believe 
in  her  so  blindly !  He  will  certainly  make  a  good  husband. 

MRS.    WESTERN    to  DE  BEAUVOIR 

She's  coming  to  congratulate  you.     Sit  up  and  beg  pretty. 

199 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

THE  MARQUISE 

Monsieur  de  Beauvoir,  receive  my  condolences  and  my  sin 
cere  sympathy  with  your  sorrow.  You  have  had  a  great  blow. 
We  shall  have  a  mass  served  in  the  chapel  to-morrow  morn 
ing.  I  suppose  you  leave  at  once? 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Is  this  the  mediaeval,  aristocratic  form  of  congratulation  to 
a  fiance? 

DESIREE 
I  don't  understand,  dear. 

MRS.   WESTERN 

Neither  do  I,  nor  have  I  for  the  last  half  hour.  These 
lightning-change  engagements  are  bewildering  to  the  Occi 
dental  mind.  Don't  shake  the  kaleidoscope  again,  please, 
until  I've  had  my  coffee.  Marquise,  can't  you  give  us  our 
conge  in  true  classic  fashion  by  blessing  Desiree  and  telling 
Monsieur  de  Beauvoir  to  ''take  her,  my  boy!" 

THE  MARQUISE,  smiling  and  shrugging  her  shoulders, 
puts  DESIREE'S  hand  into  DE  BEAUVOIR'S 


200 


CLEON,  an  Athenian  citizen,  father  of  Clea  and  Amphione. 

CHARMIDES,  an  officer  of  hoplites. 

LYSIS,  a  student,  betrothed  to  Amphione. 

GRYLLUS,  a  young  athlete,  betrothed  to  Clea. 

CRITIAS,  father  of  Lysis. 

BATTAROS,  slave  of  Cleon. 

CLEANTHES,  a  child,  son  of  Clea. 

AMPHIONE,  younger  daughter  of  Cleon,  sister  of  Clea. 

CLEA,  daughter  of  Cleon. 

DORIS,  nurse  of  Clea. 

PRAXILLA,  slave  of  Cleon. 

PARTHENIS,  a  flute-player. 

ECHO,  an  Indian  parrot. 

Slave  girls,  water-bearers,  singers 

Time,  411  B.  c.     Place,  Athens 


201 


IN  CLEON'S  GARDEN 


Scene 

A  garden.  Right,  a  porch,  with  seats  on  either  side  of 
house  door.  Left  centre,  and  left,  a  high  wall,  surmounted  by 
vases  filled  with  plants  and  noivers,  running  across  the  back 
of  the  stage;  in  the  middle  this  wall  is  broken  as  though  it  had 
been  forced  inward  on  the  garden  bed  at  its  base.  Left,  an 
arbor  overhung  with  grape-vine,  under  it  a  semicircular  mar 
ble  seat  and  a  wall  fountain,  the  water  falling  from  a  lion's 
mask  into  a  small  basin.  Right  centre,  a  chair,  with  a  scarf 
and  parasol  lying  on  it.  A  peacock  is  sunning  itself  on  the  wall, 
doves  are  drinking  at  the  fountain,  and  ECHO,  the  parrot, 
meditates  in  a  cage  hung  from  one  of  the  beams  of  the  arbor. 

ECHO,  in  a  low  voice,  almost  a  whisper 
Lysis !     Lysis ! 

A  rough,  curly  head  rises  above  the  gap  in  the  wall,  and  LYSIS 
looks  eagerly  into  the  garden,  waits  a  moment,  listens,  and 
then  sinks  out  of  sight. 

ECHO,  plaintively 

Come  back,  come  back  to  her  who  loves  you. 

203 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 
The  head  of  LYSIS  again  appears 

ECHO,  sardonically 
Ha !  ha !  ha !     (  Chuckles  evilly. ) 

LYSIS  shakes  his  fist  at  the  parrot  and  disappears 

Enter  AMPHIONE  by  house  door  on  right,  glances  at  the  win 
dows,  saunters  about  the  garden,  gathers  a  rose,  dabbles 
her  hands  in  the  fountain,  and  finally,  going  to  the  gap  in  the 
wall,  calls  in  a  low  voice,  almost  a  whisper. 

Lysis !     Lysis ! 

An  indignant  growl  is  heard  behind  the  wall 

AMPHIONE,  in  a  slightly  louder  tone 
Lysis !     Lysis ! 

ECHO,  in  an  ecstasy  of  malevolent  delight,  Happing  his  wings 
Ha!  ha!  ha!     Donkeys  to  sell,  donkeys  to  sell,  donk — ! 

AMPHIONE,  going  to  the  parrot  and  stroking  its  head 

You  do  well  to  mock  me.  I'll  wait  no  longer  for  that  slug 
gard.  Good-bye,  Echo;  good-bye,  pretty  bird!  (Crosses  to 
the  porch  on  right  and  lingers  an  instant  at  the  door.) 

204 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

Enter  LYSIS,  climbing  over  the  ivall  and  leaping  down 
into  the  garden 

LYSIS 
You  here,  at  last. 

AMPHIONE,  with  dignity 

Health  to  you,  Lysis ! 

LYSIS 

By  Herakles!  I  have  need  of  it,  and  of  patience  also.  If 
you  count  by  heart-beats  I  have  waited  a  century  for  you,  and 
have  been  insulted  by  your  bird  into  the  bargain. 

AMPHIONE 

I  should  think  you  were  rating  a  tardy  slave.  You  have 
had  but  little  experience,  Lysis,  if  you  don't  know  that  girls 
are  always  late.  Besides,  7  am  not;  I  have  been  calling  and 
calling  you  until  even  the  parrot  laughed  at  me  for  a  fond  fool. 

LYSIS 

It  is  not  the  first  time  that  I've  noticed  that  you  are  more 
considerate  of  his  feelings  than  of  mine. 

AMPHIONE 

Well,  of  all  the  absurdities!  It  will  puzzle  even  a  pupil  of 
Socrates  to  prove  that. 

205 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


LYSIS 

Heartless  one !  You  know  I  am  too  distracted  to  prove  any 
thing  but  my  insensate  love  for  you.  Since  I  learned  that 
your  sister  is  to  be  married  to-day,  and  thus  the  only  obstacle 
to  our  wedding  is  removed,  I  have  quite  lost  my  head  as  well 
as  my  heart.  I  am  the  butt  of  all  my  comrades;  only  yester 
day,  when  the  Master  bade  me  define  harmony,  what  do  you 
think  I  answered? 

AMPHIONE 

How  can  I  tell  ? 

LYSIS 

I  said,  "Her  eyes  are  just  the  color  of  the  agates  in  Clitopho's 
mantle-clasp,"  and  shamed  myself  before  them  all. 

AMPHIONE,  sadly 

Poor  Lysis!  I  am  so  sorry.  (With  animation.)  Are  they, 
truly? 

LYSIS 

And  this  morning  at  the  barber's,  when  the  bungling  ap 
prentice  asked  me  how  I  would  have  my  hair  trimmed — 


AMPHIONE 

He  was  a  bungler.     I  thought  you  looked  unaccountably 
queer  to-day. 

206 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

LYSIS,  piqued 

Were  you  ever  satisfied  with  the  cut  of  it  ?  When  you  have 
quite  finished  your  criticisms  of  my  appearance  I'll  continue. 

AMPHIONE 

Criticisms  indeed !  That  remark  was  a  graceful  preamble 
to  a  request  for  a  lock  of  it.  What  did  you  answer,  dear  one  ? 

LYSIS,  mollified 

I  said,  "In  little  clusters  of  curls  quite  hiding  the  ears." 
I  can  hear  them  laugh  still.  Too  much  joy  has  driven  me 
out  of  my  wits. 

AMPHIONE 

Never  mind;  I'll  help  you  find  them  again. 

LYSIS 

We  will  look  for  them  together.  Amphione,  do  you  realize 
that  I  shall  no  longer  be  obliged  to  sneak  into  this  garden  like 
a  thief,  and  tantalize  my  famished  eyes  with  stolen  glimpses 
of  you?  But  you're  not  half  as  happy  as  I  am! 

AMPHIONE 

I  pity  my  sister,  Lysis.  She  who  desires  to  consecrate  her 
life  to  her  husband's  memory  is  forced  to  remarry,  which  to 
her  seems  sacrilege. 

207 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

LYSIS 

Yet  your  father  is  right.  She  is  young,  and  Gryllus  is  not 
the  first  comer.  Athens  still  echoes  with  his  triumphs  at  the 
games.  Cleon  (health  and  long  life  to  him!)  is  old  and  her 
child  has  no  protector,  but  what  I  never  understood  was  why 
he  insisted  on  deferring  our  wedding  until  she  had  accepted 
a  husband. 

AMPHIONE 

That  is  because  he  is  so  systematic.  It  is  against  the  rules 
of  all  well-ordered  families  that  the  younger  sister  should 
marry  before  the  elder  is  disposed  of.  Poor  Clea,  the  hope  of 
making  us  happy  has  counted  for  much  in  her  yielding  to  my 
father's  commands. 

LYSIS 
Then  she  no  longer  believes  that  Charmides  is  alive? 

AMPHIONE 

I  do  not  know;  for  years  she  held  fast  to  the  hope  of  his 
return.  She  says  he  promised  her  to  come  back,  and  some  of 
our  soldiers  did  escape,  you  know. 

LYSIS,  sadly 

It  were  kinder  to  wish  that  he  found  a  speedy  death  on  the 
field. 

208 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


AMPHIONE 

Indeed,  I  hardly  think  a  delicately  bred  gentleman  could  sur 
vive  the  torments  the  Syracusans  (on  whose  heads  may  the 
earth  lie  heavy!)  inflicted  on  our  soldiers. 


LYSIS 

Amphione,  when  I  remember  how  those  Sicilians  treated 
their  Athenian  prisoners,  branding  them  like  cattle,  penning 
them  in  those  hideous  quarries  to  freeze  at  night  and  burn  by 
day,  to  die  of  hunger  and  thirst,  to  rot  while  still  alive — when 
I  think  of  what  our  friends  and  kinsmen  endured,  I  forget  even 
you,  my  girl,  in  a  raging,  impotent  desire  for  revenge. 


AMPHIONE 

Your  picture  is  incomplete.  You  have  forgotten  the  gay 
folk  who  walked  the  pit's  edge  at  sunset,  and  leaned  down 
over  the  charnel-house  to  mock  at  the  ill-starred  captives  whom 
unkind  Death  had  slighted.  Oh!  for  the  last  two  years  we 
have  been  crammed  with  horrors.  Every  Athenian  who  es 
caped  has  told  his  piteous  story  in  my  father's  house;  to  every 
ship  that  hailed  from  the  west  we've  sent  for  news;  we  have 
sought  Charmides  as  Demeter  did  her  daughter,  but  not  with 
her  good  fortune. 

LYSIS 

And  yet  to-day  Clea  weds  Gryllus. 

209 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

AMPHIONE 

Most  unwillingly.  Father  has  so  beset  her  with  prayers,  en 
treaties,  threats,  arguments,  and  endless  disputation.  If  she 
kissed  her  boy,  he'd  shake  his  head  and  groan,  "Poor,  helpless 
child ;  he's  quite  defenceless  in  an  evil  world."  If  by  chance  I 
sighed — 

LYSIS,  coming  close  to  her 

You  sighed  for  me,  and  never  would  confess  it.  You  feared 
to  make  me  too  happy,  I  presume. 

AMPHIONE,  crossing  to  the  other  side  of  the  stage 

Lysis,  you  promised  that  if  I'd  meet  you  here  you  would 
always  stand  three  paces  off. 

LYSIS,  stopping 

Then  I  overestimated  my  capacity  for  resistance;  it  is  at 
such  promises  that  Zeus  laughs.  Like  Hippolytus,  "my  tongue 
has  sworn,  yet  my  mind  is  free." 

AMPHIONE 

You  are  not  in  the  least  like  Hippolytus,  who  was  a  very 
modest  young  man. 

LYSIS 

And  came  to  grief  in  consequence.  Well,  I'll  renew  my 
promise  if  you'll  tell  me  why  you  sighed. 

210 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


AMPHIONE 

Agreed.     I  sighed — of  course  I  sighed — because  my  girdle 
was  too  tight. 

LYSIS 
You  wasp ! 

AMPHIONE 

It  always  is  when  my  heart  aches  for  you. 

LYSIS,  fervently 

You  honeycomb!     (Throws  himself  Hat  on  the  pavement 
and  grasps  her  robe.) 

AMPHIONE 
Your  promise ! 

LYSIS 

I  am  three  paces  off.    There !    There !    There !     (Kisses  the 
hem  of  her  chiton.) 

Enter  by  door  on  right  CLEA  and  DORIS 

LYSIS  leaps  to  his  feet,  AMPHIONE  hurries  to  the  fountain 
and  caresses  one  of  the  doves 

AMPHIONE,  aside 

Be  calm,  Lysis,  and  look  innocent,  as  I  do. 

211 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

CLEA,  seating  herself  in  the  chair  on  right  and  handing 
the  scarf  and  parasol  to  DORIS 

Health,  Lysis!     Why  are  you  here? 

AMPHIONE,  playing  with  the  dove 

It  is  all  the  fault  of  the  dove  that  naughtily  flew  away. 
Lysis  happened  to  be  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and — 

CLEA 

That  is  where  he  should  be  now.  Lysis,  be  patient.  In  a 
few  days  you  can  carry  yonder  little  plague  and  her  doves 
home  with  you,  though  you  won't  need  the  doves  there.  Now, 
go  before  my  father  returns. 

LYSIS 
Farewell,  Clea — farewell,  Amphione. 

(He  climbs  over  the  wall  and  disappears) 

AMPHIONE 
Can  I  help  you,  Clea? 

CLEA,  smiling 

No.     You  had  better  clip  your  dove's  wings,  Amphione. 

212 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

AMPHIONE 

Not  for  the  world,  Clea;  they  are  too  useful. 
(Exit  by  door  on  right) 

CLEA,  turning  quickly  to  DORIS 
You  have  no  news  for  me? 

DORIS 
Mistress,  if  I  had,  would  1  have  waited  for  your  question? 

CLEA 

You  made  every  inquiry — spared  no  pains? 

DORIS 

I  did  your  bidding  as  you  yourself  would  have  done  it. 
If  I  do  not  know  my  lesson  now,  it's  not  for  lack  of  repeti 
tion.  I  am  the  fable  of  the  port,  the  custom-house  officers 
break  stale  jests  on  me,  the  meanest  bargeman  gibes  at  me 
and  says  it's  not  a  husband  but  a  lover  that  I  seek,  and  the 
common  sailors  proffer — 

CLEA 

Peace!  You  found  the  ship  from  Catana — you  asked  the 
captain — 

213 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

DORIS 

If  he  had  heard  aught  of  one  Athenian,  Charmides  of  the 
Alcmaeonidae,  once  taxiarch  of  hoplites,  now  prisoner  or  slave 
in  Sicily. 

CLEA 
And  you  offered  the  reward  for  information? 

DORIS 
Yes;  poor  mistress,  how  often  have  you  been  disappointed! 

CLEA 

This  is  the  last  time.  Gryllus's  wife  will  send  no  more. 
(Covers  her  face  with  her  mantle.) 

DORIS,  touching  CLEA'S  arm  timidly 

Mistress,  you  have  done  your  duty  by  a  dead  husband,  and 
now  there  is  a  live  lover  at  your  door;  you  have  waited  for 
Charmides  four  long  years — 

CLEA 
Penelope  waited  twenty. 

DORIS 

In  the  old  days,  when  a  body  had  plenty  of  time.  Here's 
your  father. 

214 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


Enter  CLEON 

What,  daughter,  idling  here  when  it  is  nearly  noon  and 
nothing  done?  Still  mourning,  always  grieving,  even  while 
your  wedding  dinner  is  on  the  fire.  You  should  end  the 
threnody  before  you  begin  the  epithalamium.  Was  ever  man 
so  plagued  by  wilful  girls?  A  third  daughter  would  send  me 
to  the  tomb. 

CLEA 
Would  I  were  in  mine ! 

CLEON 

May  the  gods  be  deaf  to  such  impious  wishes !  You  are 
thrice  blessed,  Clea — in  your  son,  in  your  bridegroom,  and  in 
your  over-indulgent  father. 


CLEA 

Indulgent!  When  he  bids  Charmides's  wife  take  another 
lord? 

CLEON 

His  widow,  you  mean. 

CLEA 

For  me  he  lives. 

CLEON 

These  are  sickly  fancies.  Gryllus  will  cure  you  of  them. 
Clea,  for  two  years,  moved  by  your  prayers,  I  have  tried  to 
find  your  husband;  now  I  am  convinced  he  is  dead,  I  desire 
you  to  take  another  bridegroom,  to  bestow  a  father  on  your 

215 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

child  and  a  son  on  my  old  age.     Could  a  parent  be  more  just 
or  reasonable? 


CLEA 


But  remember  the  soothsayer's  prediction;  you  believed  it 
once — "When  twice  the  olives  have  been  gathered  she  who 
weeps  will  welcome  a  husband." 

CLEON 

Exactly,  and  I  still  believe  it,  for  a  husband  means  Gryllus, 
of  course.  Surely  you  will  not  refuse  to  obey  the  mandate 
of  the  gods? 

CLEA 

But  I  read  it  not  so.  The  prediction  ran — welcome  a  hus 
band.  That  points  to  Charmides,  beyond  a  doubt. 

CLEON 

Poor  child !  Much  brooding  on  your  grief  has  made  havoc 
of  your  wits.  You  will  welcome  Gryllus,  who  is  even  now 
desirous  of  seeing  you. 

CLEA 

I  will — you  mean  I  must! 

CLEON 

Clea,  I  need  a  strong  arm  to  lean  on.  A  father  of  daughters 
only  should  get  him  sons  by  well-chosen  alliances ;  thus  a  wise 
man  circumvents  the  adverse  fates  and  transmutes  his  curses 

216 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

into  blessings.  Sons  will  uphold  my  rights.  Now,  take  this 
gap  in  the  wall,  for  instance.  If  Gryllus  and  Critias  had  sus 
tained  my  suit  the  city  would  have  repaired  it  long  ago.  Am 
I  to  blame  for  careless  driving?  What  is  it  to  me  that  it  was 
a  sacred  car  that  broke  the  bricks?  If  a  city  can  afford  pro 
cessions  it  can  afford  to  pay  for  the  damage  that  they  cause. 
So  I  said  then,  and  so  I  repeat — 

CLEA 

Yes,  so  you  repeat. 

CLEON 

Now,  give  me  a  popular  and  well-known  son-in-law  like 
Gryllus,  and  you'll  see  the  masons  here  within  a  week.  Come, 
pluck  up  heart ;  your  father  pleads,  your  sister  pines  unwedded, 
the  bridegroom  waits,  and — the  wall  needs  mending. 

Enter  GRYLLUS,  from  right 

GRYLLUS   to   CLEON 

Health,  father!  (To  CLEA.)  I  have  brought  you  these. 
They  were  my  mother's.  (Gives  her  a  casket.) 

CLEA 

I  would  that  she  herself  could  have  given  them  to  some 
happy  girl. 

GRYLLUS 

She  could  not  give  them  to  a  fairer  one.  You  do  not  care 
to  look  at  them? 

217 


MASQUES    OF    CUPID 

CLEA,  putting  the  casket  aside 
I  would  rather  talk  to  you. 

CLEON 

That's  the  first  civil  thing  she  has  said  to  him.     I'll  leave 
them  by  themselves.    Battaros!    Battaros!     (Claps  his  hands.) 

'  Enter  BATTAROS.    CLEON  seats  himself  under  the  arbor  on 
left,  and  looks  over  the  lists  that  BATTAROS  presents  to  him 

ECHO 
Charmides,  come  back — come  back ! 

GRYLLUS 

That  is  the  only  piece  of  your  property  that  I  ask  you  to 
leave  here. 

CLEA 
As  you  will.     The  bird  but  voices  the  cry  of  my  heart. 

GRYLLUS 

I  will  teach  it  another  call. 

CLEA 

It  is  too  old  and  dull  to  learn. 

218 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

GRYLLUS 

Do  you  not  fear  the  anger  of  Aphrodite,  inhuman  one  ? 

CLEA 
No ;  the  marriage  gods  protect  a  faithful  wife. 

GRYLLUS 

But  not  a  cruel  widow. 

CLEA 

It  is  you  who  are  cruel  to  give  me  that  name. 

GRYLLUS 

I  ask  no  better  than  to  call  you  wife. 

CLEA 
A  reluctant  one?     Have  you  no  pride? 

GRYLLUS 

Can  pride  and  love  find  room  in  the  same  heart?  Pride? 
Clea,  I  have  bathed  your  threshold  with  my  tears;  I  have 
watched  like  a  chained  slave  beside  your  door;  I  have  courted 
your  father,  pampered  your  nurse,  flattered  your  porter,  and 
caressed  your  dog — 

ECHO 

Donkeys  to  sell — donkeys !     Shut  up,  shut  up ! 

219 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

GRYLLUS  stops  and  froivns 
CLEA,  smiling 

But  you  have  not  propitiated  my  parrot.  Gryllus,  listen; 
it  is  not  yet  too  late.  Have  pity  on  yourself,  on  your  own 
blooming  youth.  Do  not  take  an  unloving  wife  to  your 
warm,  young  heart.  Renounce  me,  give  me  up.  I  am  like  a 
funeral  urn,  without  well  turned  enough  and  fairly  colored, 
but  within  filled  with  tears  and  ashes. 

GRYLLUS 

The  love  that  fires  my  heart  will  dry  the  tears  and  kindle  the 
ashes  into  flame. 

CLEA 

Have  mercy,  Gryllus ;  let  me  go. 

GRYLLUS 

Have  pity  on  me,  Clea,  as  you  hope  for  pity.  You  speak 
as  though  I  could  choose  in  this  matter.  I  did  not  elect  to 
love  you.  Do  I  control  the  hammering  of  this  smithy  in  my 
side  ?  Do  I  regulate  the  tumult  in  my  veins  ?  You  ask  me  to 
renounce  you  as  you  would  beg  a  pet  quail  of  me.  You  fancy 
that  you  love — 

CLEA 

I  fancy,  Gryllus! 

GRYLLUS 

You  would  not  plead  with  the  gasping  runner  to  turn  back 
.when,  with  weak  knees  and  thundering  heart,  he  gains  the  goal ; 

220 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

you  would  not  dare  to  ask  the  jaded  wrestler,  when  he  grips 
his  adversary  for  a  final  throw,  to  loose  his  clutch;  and  yet 
you — 

CLEA 

Beseech  your  clemency  for  your  own  self.  It  were  better 
for  you  to  bid  the  furies  to  your  wedding  feast  than  to  drive 
me  to  despair. 

GRYLLUS 

What!  In  a  rage?  I  like  you  better  so.  The  ashes  still 
glow,  Clea. 

CLEA 

Ah,  no.  Alcestis,  newly  wrested  from  the  tomb,  cold  with 
the  awful  dews  of  death,  was  not  more  chill  to  mortal  touch 
than  I  shall  be  to  you,  Gryllus. 

GRYLLUS 

Her  husband's  arms  warmed  her  to  life  again. 

CLEA,  rising  impatiently  with  a  groan 
O,  immortal  gods,  who  will  deliver  me  from  this  man? 

ECHO,  startled 
Charmides,  Charmides,  come  back,  come  back ! 

CLEON  silences  the  parrot,  and  then  turning  to  GRYLLUS 

221 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 


CLEON 

Have  you  finished  your  billing;  remember  the  bride  isn't 
dressed  yet. 

GRYLLUS 

One  moment,  father.  (To  CLEA.)  I  tender  you  the  olive 
branch,  while  you,  with  that  sharp  sword  you  wear  between 
your  lips,  still  stab  a  heart  that  loves  you,  even  while  you  pray 
for  mercy.  You  suffer,  so  do  I ;  let  the  sense  of  your  own 
pain  make  you  more  pitiful.  Reflect  a  little  on  my  torments. 
You  have  never  sighed  for  one  whose  every  thought  is  given 
to  another. 

CLEA 

No;  nor  do  I  understand  such  fierce  love.  If  not  madness, 
it  is  sheer  self-will. 

GRYLLUS 

Of  course  you  do  not  understand  it;  sooner  could  you  per 
form  the  feats  of  the  Pentathlon.  A  woman's  puny  side  could 
never  hold  a  heart  like  mine.  Madness!  Why,  so  it  is.  I 
could  almost  believe  that  you  had  spun  my  brain  round  on  a 
magic  wheel  and  scorched  my  heart  before  a  witch's  fire.  Have 
you  not  brewed  a  philtre  for  my  drinking?  But  no,  you  are 
your  own  enchantment. 

CLEA 

Go  sing  that  fustian  under  some  flute-player's  window.  Am 
I  one  who  consorts  with  sorcerers?  But  you  are  changed. 
You  used  to  be  a  modest  lad,  as  shy  and  silent  as  you  were 
strong.  Now  fame  has  come  to  you,  and  all  those  crowns, 

222 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

and  turned  your  head,  not  I,  with  magic  wheels.  Potions ! 
Why,  your  training-diet  (ugh!  those  masses  of  red  meat!) 
has  fevered  your  blood.  Nowadays  you  are  more  of  a  fight 
ing-cock  than  a  man.  It  is  to  the  man  that  I  appeal. 

GRYLLUS 

And  the  man's  answer  is  most  reasonable.  Clea,  you  do 
not  love  me,  but  you  are  my  promised  wife.  Forbear  to 
strive  weakly  with  me.  I  will  not  understand  denial;  I  am 
armed  against  refusal.  Such  love  as  mine  o'erleaps  all  your 
defences  and  overwhelms  your  feebler  resolution.  On  your 
dear  head  I  swear  to  be  a  tender  father  to  your  child,  a  help 
ful  son  to  Cleon.  I  will  sustain  your  scorn  with  far  more 
patience  than  one  who  loves  you  less  tempestuously.  Then, 
should  I  renounce  you,  Cleon  would  still  find  you  another  mate 
who  might  be  less  kind  to  your  boy,  less  dutiful  to  your  father, 
less  known  to  Athens  and  to  Greece  than  Gryllus. 


CLEA 

I  see  the  athlete  has  not  forgotten  the  sophist's  lessons, 
am  silenced,  not  reconciled. 


GRYLLUS 

Be  silent,  then,  and  yield  to  stronger  wills. 

CLEA 

I  do,  for  my  child's  sake. 

223 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

GRYLLUS 

It  is  three  long  hours  before  I  come  for  you.  Farewell. 
(To  CLEON.)  Father,  we  have  finished  our  conference. 

CLEA  to  GRYLLUS 

Conqueror,  I  salute  you.  What  a  noble  victory  you  have 
gained  over  the  defenceless !  Burn  your  Pythian  chaplets ;  to 
day's  exploit  outshines  all  your  past  triumphs.  Go  in  state 
to  thank  the  gods  for  this  most  glorious  conquest.  Fare  you 
well. 

(Exit  CLEA) 

CLEON 
I  fear  you  found  her  somewhat  fanciful. 

GRYLLUS,  smiling 

Father,  I'd  scorn  to  win  a  prize  without  a  contest.  Her 
resistance  heaps  sulphur  on  my  flame.  I'm  for  the  Acropolis ; 
give  me  your  company. 

CLEON 

The  gods  go  with  you!  I  have  much  to  do,  and  have  al 
ready  sacrificed  at  daybreak.  Farewell,  my  son. 

GRYLLUS 

We'll  meet  at  dinner.  No,  don't  attend  me;  spare  cere 
mony. 

224 


I 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

(Exeunt  CLEON  and  GRYLLUS) 

Reenter  CLEON,  leading  in  AMPHIONE  by  the  ear 

CLEON 

For  shame!  How  often  have  I  told  you  that  the  door  of 
the  women's  apartment  is  the  boundary  set  for  a  maiden?  A 
little  further  and  you  would  have  been  in  the  street.  To  have 
you  shy  and  retiring  I  must  chain  you  like  a  slave. 

AMPHIONE 

Why  were  women  born  with  feet  ?  Why  were  they  not  made 
like  eels  until  their  fathers  find  husbands  for  them?  If  you 
spoil  my  ear,  you  must  add  another  farm  to  my  dower. 

CLEON 

No  prating !  You  would  confound  Socrates  himself.  Eels, 
indeed!  Here's  a  model  for  you,  gadabout.  (Taking  up  a 
small  turtle  from  the  flower-bed.)  Here's  an  example  for  all 
modest  women :  she's  always  in  her  house,  you  see — a  home- 
keeping  female  this. 

AMPHIONE 

And  so  would  I  be  if  I  had  a  face  like  that!  (Taking  the 
turtle.)  You  are  convinced  that  turtles  are  patterns  of  do 
mestic  virtue — all  turtles? 

225 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

CLEON,  warily 
Um — well,  yes. 

AMPHIONE 

Battaros,  Battaros,  come  and  take  father's  mantle  and  split 
up  his  cane  for  firewood.  Father,  you'll  hang  your  shoes 
in  the  temple  of  Aphrodite  Urania. 

CLEON 
What  nonsense  is  this? 

AMPHIONE 

You  said  all  turtles  were  examples  to  be  imitated,  therefore 
you'll  keep  me  company  here,  for  virtuous  Mistress  Turtle 
never  leaves  her  house  because  Mr.  Turtle  stays  at  home,  too. 

CLEON 

What  a  pitiful  jest!  (Pinching  AMPHIONE'^  cheek.)  If 
you  tease  your  husband  as  much  as  you  worry  your  father,  I 
shall  have  you  on  my  hands  again  inside  of  a  fortnight. 

AMPHIONE 

And  you  will  miss  your  plague  so  much  that  you  will  be 
glad  to  have  her  back  again,  whereas  if  I  were  really  a  good, 
thrifty  housekeeper  you  would  be  offering  sacrifices  to  be  rid 
of  me. 

226 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

CLEON 

Is  this  another  pleasantry?     Am  I  expected  to  ask  why? 

AMPHIONE 

Because  a  notable  housewife  is  worse  than  a  gadfly.  She 
must  always  be  reproving;  fault-finding  is  her  business,  repre 
hension  is  her  pleasure.  She  awakes  to  cavil,  goes  to  table 
to  upbraid  the  cook,  and  after  having  rebuked  and  reprimanded 
all  day,  retires  still  objurgating  and  scolds  on  in  her  sleep. 

CLEON 

What  a  paragon !  I  wish  I  had  such  an  one  to  regulate  my 
household.  Come,  bustle,  bustle !  There  are  a  thousand  things 
to  do.  Where  is  your  sister? 

AMPHIONE 

Gone  to  the  temple  with  Doris. 

CLEON 
Have  the  girls  been  to  Calirrhoe  ? 

AMPHIONE 

Long  since,  and  the  cook  has  come.  Praxilla  has  given  him 
the  honey  for  the  cakes,  and  is  weighing  the  spices.  Father, 
when  I  am  married  we  shall  bake  honey-cakes  every  day. 

227 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

CLEON 

Would  you  were  wedded  and  eating  them  now !  How  can  I 
go  through  this  twice?  You  must  help  dress  your  sister,  and, 
child  of  tardiness,  see  to  it  that  you  are  both  ready  in  time! 
Prodigies  happen  occasionally.  Keep  an  eye  on  the  wreaths, 
and  stay  on  your  own  side  of  the  house  when  Parthenis  and 
the  singing-girls  arrive.  And  don't  look  out  of  the  window, 
Amphione.  You  have  worn  holes  in  the  window-seat  with 
your  elbows. 

AMPHIONE 

Well,  would  you  rather  that  the  window-seat  had  worn  holes 
in  my  elbows? 

CLEON 

Hush,  hush !  Now,  what  are  you  waiting  for  ?  Have  you 
lead  in  your  sandals.  (ECHO,  excited  by  CLEON'S  rapid  utter 
ance,  punctuates  his  speech  with  ear-piercing  shrieks.)  Can 
you  keep  your  mind  with  that  ill-omened  bird  here?  I  devote 
its  head  to  the  infernal  gods ! 

AMPHIONE,  running  to  the  cage  and  soothing  ECHO 

Hush,  pretty  one!  Be  quiet,  parrot  of  my  heart,  and  you 
shall  have  a  bit  of  cake  when  dinner  is  over.  No,  no;  don't 
mention  donkeys,  for  father  is  here ;  that's  a  sweeting ! 

CLEON 

You  would  wheedle  the  very  bird  off  his  perch.  In  with 
you! 

(Exeunt  CLEON  and  AMPHIONE) 
228 


IN   CLEON'S    GARDEN 

Enter  CHARMIDES,  by  the  breach  in  the  wall,  wrapped  in 
a  cloak,  with  a  travelling-hat  drawn  over  his  eyes 

ECHO,  fluttering  his  wings 
Welcome,  Charmides !     Come  back !     Come  back ! 

CHARMIDES  starts,  looks  hastily  around,  and  steps  into  the  arbor 
as  PARTHENIS  and  the  singing- girls,  followed  by  two  water- 
bearers,  enter  from  door  on  right.  The  water-bearers  leave 
their  empty  jars  on  the  left  near  the  fountain,  and  begin  to 
decorate  the  porch  by  festooning  heavy  wreaths  of  laurel 
and  myrtle  from  pillar  to  pillar. 

Enter  PRAXILLA,  her  arms  full  of  flowers 

PRAXILLA 

When  you  have  finished,  set  these  lilies  closely  about  the 
fountain,  and  then  come  to  me.  The  altars  of  the  household 
gods  should  be  freshly  crowned.  ( To  PARTHENIS.  )  You  have 
the  names  all  pat  now? 

(Exit  PRAXILLA) 

FIRST    SINGING-GIRL 

We  know  them  well,  don't  we,  Parthenis;  especially  the 
bridegroom's  ? 

229 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

SECOND    SINGING-GIRL 

Cat!     Don't  torment  her. 

FIRST    SINGING-GIRL 

We  remember  Gryllus's  name,  though  he  has  forgotten  ours. 
Times  are  changed. 

SECOND    SINGING-GIRL 

You  will  make  her  cry,  and  that  will  spoil  her  playing.    One 
can't  sob  into  a  flute. 


PARTHENIS,  with  an  air  of  indifference,  unwraps  her 
musical  instruments 


FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

You  know  Gryllus,  then  ? 

SECOND    SINGING-GIRL 

Do  we?  We  sang  at  the  supper  which  the  city  gave  him 
after  he  returned  from  the  games.  That  was  a  day!  You 
should  have  seen  him  in  his  purple  cloak  driving  through  the 
big,  ragged  breach  in  the  town  wall.  The  cheering — you  could 
hear  it  at  the  Peirseus — had  maddened  the  horses,  and  the 
chariot  danced,  but  he  was  as  unmoved  and  smiling  as  he  was 
later  in  the  Prytaneium. 

230 


IN   CLEON'S    GARDEN 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

And  you  sang  the  ode? 

FIRST    SINGING-GIRL 

Fairly  well.  We  had  scant  time  for  practice;  he  gave  us 
each  a  bracelet,  but  Parthenis's  was  the  prettiest. 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

I  suppose  he  is  a  great  man,  but  I  can't  realize  it,  because 
he  is  so  pleasant  and  so  kind  to  us  all  here. 

SECOND    SINGING-GIRL 

That's  because  he  is  quite  daft  now.  He'll  be  masterful 
enough  by  and  by.  He's  one  of  the  sort  that  throw  everything 
into  a  wife's  lap  at  first,  and  a  month  later  will  keep  the  key 
of  the  store-closet  and  measure  out  the  wine. 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

I  can't  believe  it  of  him.  Why,  I  have  seen  him  stand  for 
hours,  motionless  as  his  own  statue  on  the  Altis,  watching  what 
he  thought  was  the  window  of  our  mistress's  room.  He  mis 
calculated,  though,  and  kept  his  vigil  under  the  one  where  old 
Doris  was  snoring,  with  her  wig  off. 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

He  gave  Praxilla  two  drachmae  for  an  old  fillet  of — 

231 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

PARTHENIS,  breaking  her  ftute  and  throwing  it  down 

I  can't  bear  any  more,  and  I  won't  play  at  his  wedding — 
there ! 

(She  rushes  out  by  door  on  right) 

SECOND    SINGING-GIRL 

Poor  Parthenis !  You've  pricked  her  sorely  with  your  needle 
tongues.  Now,  Mother  Philenis  will  give  her  a  beating. 
Come,  let's  go  after  her. 

FIRST    SINGING-GIRL 

By  the  Two  Goddesses !  I  meant  no  harm.  She  must  learn 
not  to  cling  to  a  man  like  a  limpet  to  a  rock. 

Enter  DORIS,  carrying  lamps 

DORIS 

Not  finished  yet?  You'll  not  fever  your  blood  with  over 
much  haste.  Are  you  waiting  for  the  sun  to  warm  your 
backs?  I  know  a  quicker  way.  Your  jaws  must  ache.  It 
isn't  work  that  tires  you!  Growl  as  much  as  you  please,  but 
trim  and  light  these  lamps  at  once.  And  you,  singing  birds, 
what  are  you  doing  here? 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

Please,  Doris,  they  have  been  teasing  the  flute-player,  and 
she  has  run  away. 

232 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

DORIS 

Now,  aid  us,  Adrasteia!  After  her,  you  grasshoppers! 
I'll  make  you  sing  a  lamentation.  Out,  out,  or  I'll  write  your 
score  on  your  shoulders  with  my  stick! 

(Exeunt  the  singing-girls  in  haste  on  right) 

DORIS 

What  are  you  staring  at?  Can't  you  gape  and  work  at  the 
same  time  ?  Hurry !  The  lamps  are  wanted  for  to-day's  wed 
ding,  not  for  next  season's  Thesmophoria.  And  don't  fill  them 
as  though  you  were  pouring  a  libation,  and  beware  of  looking  so 
long  for  lovers  in  the  wicks  that  the  bridegroom  will  lose  his 
way  in  the  dark. 

(Exit  DORIS,  muttering  and  shaking  her  head) 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

By  Artemis !  I  would  rather  meet  Empusa  any  day  than  that 
old  hag.  She  grows  worse  and  worse. 

They  trim  and  light  the  lamps 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

We  should  look  for  signs  in  them  to-night.  Eunoa,  see  the 
lump  in  this  wick.  What  does  that  stand  for? 

233 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

What  you'll  never  get — a  husband. 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

No ;  it  means  that  we  may  expect  a  stranger. 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

O  wise  soothsayer!  Dozens  of  them  are  invited  to  the 
banquet. 

CHARMIDES,  stepping  out  of  the  arbor  and  approaching 
the  startled  girls 

Do  not  be  frightened,  but  tell  your  master  that  a  traveler 
from  Catana  would  speak  with  him. 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

A  traveler  from  Sicily  is  always  sure  of  a  welcome  in  this 
house.  (Aside,  nudging  her  companion.)  That's  he.  Now, 
is  not  the  lamp  a  true  prophet? 

SECOND    WATER-BEARER 

He?     Who?     The  husband  you  are  always  looking  for? 

FIRST    WATER-BEARER 

No;  the  stranger,  of  course. 

234 


IN   CLEON'S    GARDEN 

(Exeunt  by  door  on  right) 

CHARMIDES  throzvs  back  his  cloak  and  takes  off  the  petasos 


Enter  AMPHIONE  from  right.     CHARMIDES  clasps  her 
in  his  arms 


CHARMIDES 

Clea,  my  own  Clea!  Don't  you  recognize  me?  Am  I  so 
changed  ? 

AMPHIONE,  struggling 
You  are  Charmides  or  his  ghost,  but  I  am  Amphione. 

CHARMIDES,  releasing  her 

Is  it  possible !  Little  Amphione  grown  so  tall !  Where  is 
my  wife?  (Goes  towards  the  house  door.) 

AMPHIONE,  detaining  him 

Stop — wait  a  moment,  let  me  draw  breath.  We  thought 
you  were  dead,  Charmides;  you  are  like  one  come  back  from 
the  dim  underworld.  The  shock — the  sudden  joy  after  long 
years  of  mourning  have  turned  me  faint;  they  may  kill  Clea. 
You  are  like  a  shade,  my  brother;  where  have  you  been  all 
these  years?  Oh,  why  didn't  you  send  us  one  little  word? 

235 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

CHARMIDES 

\Yhere  have  I  been?  In  Tartarus,  little  sister.  I  am  in 
deed  a  shade.  Why  did  I  not  send  you  word?  That's  perti 
nent — a  timely  question.  In  the  quarries  they  did  not  supply 
us  with  tablets,  so  I  could  not  write  home  from  them.  Later, 
I  was  sold,  with  other  worn-out  cattle,  to  a  Syracusan  miller. 
From  his  mill,  where  I  ground  corn,  I  could  have  written  with 
a  straw  filched  from  the  manger  of  my  fellow-laborer,  a  galled 
ass  whose  shoulders  were  not  more  raw  than  mine,  and  for  ink, 
there  was  the  blood  from  my  back,  but  I  lacked  a  messenger, 
Amphione. 

AMPHIONE 

My  poor  Charmides! 

CHARMIDES,  taking  her  hand 
Clea  is  well?     She  still  mourns  for  me,  you  say? 

AMPHIONE 

She  dwells  with  your  memory.  (Aside.)  Oh,  what  can 
I  do? 

CHARMIDES 

Then  fetch  her,  fetch  her — or  let  me  seek  her. 

AMPHIONE 

L  will.  Patience,  I  beseech  you !  You  understand,  Char 
mides,  we  have  sought  you  for  years,  and  now — we  thought 

236 


IX   CLEOX'S   GARDEX 

you  dead — this  is  the  first  time  that  this  sad  house  has  held  a 
feast  since  the  fleet  sailed.  To-day — oh,  pardon,  dear,  it  was 
for  no  want  of  love,  I  do  assure  you — she  was  overruled,  and 
I  am  much  to  blame. 

CHARMIDES,  Smiling 

Why?  Because  you  have  a  wedding  here  without  waiting 
for  my  return?  Poor  child,  it  was  most  natural;  my  only 
wonder  is  that  you  should  have  tarried  so  long. 

AMPHIOXE 

Charmides,  we  are  unworthy  of  your  forgiveness.     How  did 

you  know  ? 

CHARMIDES 

I  heard  the  slave-girls'  chatter.  But  why  does  the  bride  wear 
white  roses  in  her  cheeks  ?  What  troubles  her  ? 


AMPHIOXE 

The  surprise — your  return — why — of  course  I  am  the  bride. 
They  told  you  so  ? 

CHARM  DDES 

I  guessed  as  much.     Xow  let  us  go  to  Clea. 

AMPHIONE 

She  is  here. 

237 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

AMPHIONE,  placing  her  finger  on  her  Up,  hurries  CHARMIDES 
into  the  arbor,  and  then  joins  CLEA  at  the  door 

Enter  CLEA  from  right,  accompanied  by  PRAXILLA,  carrying 
a  jewel-casket,  and  DORIS,  holding  a  case  of  cosmetics  in 
one  hand  and  an  oil-jar  in  the  other. 

CLEA  seats  herself  in  the  chair,  and  PRAXILLA  opens 
the  casket 


CLEA 

Let  me  breathe  a  little  before  I  fasten  my  fetters.  There 
is  a  strange  heaviness  in  the  air.  Amphione,  how  pale  you  are! 
These  perfumes  are  too  heavy.  (She  motions  aivay  the  case 
which  DORIS  offers  her.) 

DORIS 

You  would  both  be  the  better  for  a  touch  from  my  box. 
Your  bath  was  too  cold,  mistress,  or  your  prayers  were  too 
long ;  you  have  gone  white  as  the  Hermes  yonder. 

CLEA 

Yes,  I  have  tired  the  gods  with  unanswered  supplications. 
I  have  hoped  even  until  now  for  some  sign  from  them,  but 
they  are  as  pitiless  as  men — 

AMPHIONE 

Clea,  hush !  I  have  news  for  you — a  stranger  just  arrived 
from  Catana — 

238 


IN   CLEON'S    GARDEN 


LEA,  gasping  and  trembling 

And  you  have  held  him  in  talk  long  enough  to  learn  this 
without  warning  me?     Charmides  is  alive? 


AMPHIONE 

Rejoice!     He  is. 

CLEA,  rising 

Is  he  well  ?  Is  he  wounded  ?  Is  he  sick,  in  prison,  in  slav 
ery?  Does  he  send  for  ransom?  Tell  me — one  word  if  you 
are  in  truth,  my  sister.  No — silence!  Bring  this  stranger 
here,  that  I  may  question  him  and  bless  him,  and  fall  at  his 
feet  and  offer  sacrifice  to  him  as  though  he  were  a  god. 

AMPHIONE 

Softly,  softly,  Clea.  You  are  reserving  nothing  for  Char- 
rnides  himself.  Dismiss  your  women. 

(Exit  DORIS  and  PRAXILLA) 
I'll  fetch  the  man. 

AMPHIONE  crosses  to  the  arbor,  and  leads  out  CHARMIDES, 
muffled  in  his  cloak 

CLEA 

His  step!  (Runs  towards  him  and  falls  at  his  feet.  He 
raises  and  enfolds  her  in  his  arms.) 

239 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

A  silence 
AMPHIONE  steals  out  by  the  porch  door 

CHARMIDES,  slowly  putting  CLEA  away  from  him 
and  looking  at  her 

So  like  and  so  unlike  the  face  I  held  between  my  eyelids  in 
the  glare  of  the  quarry,  in  the  blinding  dust  of  the  mill.  That 
was  the  treasure  which  they  could  not  wrest  from  the  famished 
slave.  And  yet  after  a  little  space,  do  what  I  would,  the  color 
paled,  the  lines  wavered  into  haze.  Were  you  so  tall,  and  was 
this  arm  which  warms  my  throat  so  round  four  years  ago? 
Speak  to  me — speak,  if  you  are  not  some  treacherous  dream. 

CLEA 
I  cannot.     Bliss  is  mute. 

CHARMIDES 

Let  me  taste  it,  then,  hearing  your  voice.  Tell  me — what 
indeed  I  know — that  you  love  me — me  the  scarred  captive,  the 
branded  slave — as  you  once  did  your  bridegroom? 

CLEA 

No,  I  do  not  love  you  as  I  loved  you  then,  but  ten  thousand 
thousand  times  as  much;  indeed,  my  life,  I  never  really  loved 
you  till  this  moment. 

240 


I 

• 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


CHARMIDES 

Sweet  sophist,  your  affection  was  my  only  reason  for  living. 
For  years  I  have  fought  Death  when  my  comrades  called  on 
him,  because  I  had  promised  you  to  return. 

CLEA 

Love,  I  will  make  your  life  so  sweet  that  you  will  not  regret 
your  hard-won  victory.  How  you  have  suffered !  I  see  your 
past  torments  in  your  wasted  face,  and  this  dear  arm,  once 
strong  as  a  young  tree,  has  scarcely  strength  to  hold  me.  Oh, 
my  love,  my  love,  how  could  they  hurt  you ! 

CHARMIDES 

I  am  much  changed,  I  know ;  nay,  be  frank  with  me.  Clea, 
I  have  been  branded  like  a  beast,  scourged  like  the  slave  I  was, 
harnessed  to  millstones,  driven  around  with  blows,  and  muz 
zled,  that  in  the  extremity  of  my  hunger  I  might  not  devour 
the  raw  flour  that  I  ground. 

CLEA 

Oh,  pity — stop !  My  heart,  inured  to  sorrow  as  it  is,  is  not 
framed  to  bear  the  thought  of  your  misery. 

CHARMIDES 

But  it  is  over  now — no,  not  quite;  such  agonies  of  flesh  and 
spirit  leave  scars  on  mind  and  heart.  Such  outward  degrada- 

241 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

tion  may  not  debase,  but  it  embitters.     It  is  a  defeated  soldier, 
a  broken,  melancholy  man  that  I  bring  back  to  you,  my  wife. 


CLEA 

Pardon  me,  my  dear  lord.  It  is  as  conqueror  that  you  re 
turn.  Have  you  not,  like  Alcmena's  son,  wrestled  with  Death 
and  triumphed?  If  you  have  lost  the  light  heart  of  youth, 
have  you  not  won  the  virtues  of  the  hero :  patience,  fortitude, 
and  an  unwavering  will  ?  I  shall  be  too  proud  of  such  a  hus 
band  ;  dear  gods,  what  good  thing  have  I  done  that  you  should 
give  so  much? 

CHARMIDES,  kissing  her 

What  balm  there  is  in  those  soft  lips !  They  charm  my 
wretchedness ;  but,  Clea,  your  hero  has  been  branded,  and  on 
his  scored  back  is  written  slave  until  he  dies. 


CLEA 

Would  you  be  more  than  a  god,  Charrnides  ?  Was  not  Her- 
akles  beaten,  and  did  not  Apollo  drudge  in  the  house  of  Ad- 
metus?  Do  you  come  to  a  poor,  ignorant  girl,  who  has  never 
been  taught  the  wisdom  of  the  schools,  to  be  told  that  your 
dauntless  spirit,  the  real  Charmides,  was  always  a  free  man  ? 

CHARMIDES 

What  a  wise  little  person  you  have  grown  to  be!  Has 
Socrates  brought  his  demon  to  your  father's  house? 

242 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

CLEA 

Love  is  my  master,  Charmides. 

CHARMIDES 

Love  is  not  stern  enough  to  play  the  pedagogue. 

CLEA 

Mine  was  the  wingless  Eros  of  Anacreon ;  have  you  forgot 
ten  the  old  song  of  the  love  that  forges  the  soul  as  the  smith 
does  his  iron,  tempering  it  in  flame  and  steeping  it  in  icy  waters 
after  many  blows  ? 

CHARMIDES 

That  belongs  to  a  sunny  past  which  is  slowly  coming  back 
to  me.  My  blows  have  left  tangible  furrows,  Clea. 

CLEA,  embracing  him 

Every  scar  on  that  beloved  flesh  cries  out  to  me.  Your 
wounds  are  mouths  which  testify  to  faithful  love  and  unfalter 
ing  endurance.  You  wear  them  nobly,  Charmides. 

CHARMIDES 

Why,  sweet,  almost  you  persuade  me — but  in  my  new-found 
happiness  I  am  forgetting  Amphione's  wedding.  I  am  but  a 
sorry  marriage  guest. 

243 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

CLEA,  starting 
Amphione's  ? 

CHARMIDES 

Yes ;  I  shall  shame  you  all.  I  must  borrow  a  wedding  gar 
ment.  Go  you  first,  my  love,  and  smooth  the  way  for  me — I 
shall  strike  terror  to  our  household. 

CHARMIDES  muffles  himself  in  his  cloak  again.  CLEA,  in  a 
dazed  way,  leads  him  towards  the  house.  At  the  porch  door 
they  are  met  by  BATTAROS  and  AMPHIONE,  who  carries  a 
veil  on  her  arm. 

BATTAROS,  kneeling  dozvn  and  kissing  CHARMIDES'S  hand 
Rejoice,  my  master! 

AMPHIONE 

That's  sensible,  don't  uncover  your  face.  Battaros  has 
made  your  bath  ready,  and  your  own  clothes — Clea  has  kept 
them  in  beautiful  order,  Charmides — are  airing.  Make  haste 
and  join  us  here  when  you  are  dressed. 

CHARMIDES 

You  are  already  a  bustling  housekeeper,  Amphione. 

AMPHIONE 

The  gods  avert  it!  Now,  go,  Charmides.  Clea  must  stay 
here.  The  bride  needs  her.  Go,  go ;  it's  not  for  another  four 
years  that  you  are  leaving  her. 

244 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 
(Exeunt  BATTAROS  and  CHARMIDES) 

AMPHIONE 

Clea,  wake  up !  You  have  been  dreaming  long  enough ;  ac 
tion  is  now  imperative.  I  have  done  what  I  could,  but  father 
was  gossiping  outside,  and  paid  no  attention  to  my  messages. 
Does  Charmides  know?  About  you  and  Gryllus  I  mean,  of 
course. 

CLEA 
Fool  that  I  was,  I  forgot  everything  else  when  I  saw  his  face. 

AMPHIONE 

Who  would  think  you  were  my  elder!  Now,  /  had  pres 
ence  of  mind  enough  to  fib  to  him  immediately.  You  are 
saved,  Clea,  by  the  astuteness  of  your  younger  sister. 

CLEA 
I  am  too  bewildered  to  follow  you. 

AMPHIONE 

I  told  him  that  it  was  my  wedding  day. 

CLEA 
To  what  purpose? 

245 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


AMPHIONE 


To  shield  you,  marble-head.  Hera  aid  us!  Can't  you  un 
derstand  that  if  we  can  get  rid  of  Gryllus,  and  send  for  Lysis 
in  time,  we  can  have  a  wedding  after  all,  and  Charmides  will 
never  know  that  it  was  to  have  been  yours? 


CLEA 


I  cannot  deceive  him,  and  yet  I  would  rather  die  than  tell 
him.  He  has  already  endured  so  much.  O  my  child,  what 
shall  I  do! 


AMPHIONE 


Trust  to  me ;  the  child  will  arrange  everything.  Here  comes 
father.  We  must  break  the  news  to  him  discreetly.  Now  be 
tactful,  Clea. 

Enter  CLEON  by  porch  door 

CLEON 

You  wanted  to  see  me.  I  haven't  a  moment  to  spare. 
Where's  the  man  from  Catana? 

AMPHIONE,  motioning  to  CLEA  to  be  quiet 
In  the  house,  taking  a  bath. 

CLEON 

Before  seeing  me!     That  seems  informal. 

246 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

AMPHIONE 

I  sent  him  to  the  guest-chamber  with  Battaros. 

CLEON 

Since  when  has  it  been  your  duty  to  receive  strange  trav 
ellers? 

AMPHIONE 

You  were  not  here.     I  sent  for  you. 

CLEA,  putting  her  hand  on  CLEON'S  shoulder 

He  brought  us  joyful  news,  father,  but  there  will  be  no 
wedding  here. 

AMPHIONE,  taking  her  father's  hand 

Oh,  yes,  there  will  be!  Clea,  you  are  spoiling  everything. 
/  will  take  Clea's  place,  father,  and  none  of  the  cakes  will  be 
wasted. 

CLEA 

Cannot  we  send  immediately  for  Gryllus,  father? 

AMPHIONE 

No ;  we  must  despatch  a  messenger  to  Lysis  first. 

CLEA 

Letting  him  know  that  there  is  no  marrying  for  him  to-day. 

247 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

AMPHIONE 

Bidding  him  prepare  to  be  married  at  once. 

CLEA 

You  are  mixing  up  matters,  Amphione.     Gryllus  should  be 
informed  first,  or  he  will  be  affronted. 

AMPHIONE 

And  you  are  bewildering  father,  Clea.     Lysis  should  be  in 
formed  first,  or  he  may  not  be  prepared. 

CLEA 
But  he  is  coming  in  any  case. 

AMPHIONE 

And  so  is  Gryllus. 

CLEA,  drawing  CLEON  towards  her 

Surely  it  is  most  important  to  warn  an  expectant  bridegroom 
that  he  is  not  to  be  married,  after  all. 

AMPHIONE,  pulling  CLEON  away  from  CLEA 

It  is  indubitably  more  urgent  to  warn  an  unsuspecting  boy 
that  he  is  to  be  married  immediately. 

248 


i 


«Hr 


PA 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

CLEA,  releasing  CLEON 

Do  as  you  please,  then,  for  we  can't  waste  time  in  discussion. 
The  names  in  the  hymeneal  chorus  must  be  changed. 

AMPHIONE 

And  the  porter  must  be  instructed  to  inform  the  wedding 
guests  who  is  to  wed  which,  and  to  dispel  their  former  mis 
conceptions. 

CLEA 

And  the  flower-girls  sent  to  Critias's  house! 

CLEON  during  this  rapid  dialogue  has  looked  in  amazement 
from  one  daughter  to  the  other.  Still  holding  them  both  by 
the  hand,  he  now  marches  to  the  door  on  right. 

CLEON 

No,  girls,  there  will  be  no  wedding  to-day;  instead,  we'll 
start  instantly  for  the  shrine  of  Esculapius.  You  are  both  out 
of  your  wits. 

AMPHIONE 

Father,  let  me  explain. 

CLEA 
No,  permit  me  to — 

CLEON 

No ;  you  are  too  mad  to  answer  a  straight  question.  I  don't 
even  know  which  Clea  wants  to  marry,  Critias  or  Lysis,  or 

249 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

why  Amphione  has  decided  to  appropriate  Gryllus.     I  am  in 
a  maze,  and  shall  soon  be  as  crazy  as  you  are.     Come ! 

AMPHIONE 

Hear  me  first.     Father,  brace  your  nerves  against  a  shock. 

CLEON 
Your  advice  is  belated. 

AMPHIONE,  rapidly 

Father  Charmides  has  returned  he  was  in  the  quarries 
first  and  has  been  a  slave  and  didn't  have  time  to  tell  me  how 
he  escaped  but  he  had  promised  Clea  to  come  back  you  re 
member  and  kept  it  and  arrived  just  now  and  is  dressing  and 
will  be  here  in  a  moment  and  of  course  Clea  can't  wed  Gryllus 
now  and  we  can't  tell  Charmides  how  cruelly  we  have  com 
pelled  her  to  do  so — can  we,  dear? — and  it  must  be  kept  secret 
mustn't  it  and  I  offer  to  take  her  place  and  be  married  to-day 
to  Lysis  if  you  can  persuade  him  on  such  short  notice  and 
none  of  the  flowers  and  food  will  be  spoiled  and  you  won't 
have  had  all  this  trouble  for  nothing  and  Critias  should  be 
told  too  and  I'll  trouble  you  to  arrange  my  veil  Clea  please. 

CLEON 
Charmides  has  returned!     Why,  how — how — 

CLEA 
Wonderful,  is  it  not? 

250 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


CLEON 

I  call  it  inconsiderate. 

CLEA 
Father ! 

CLEON 

But  to-day — of  all  days — without  any  warning — 

CLEA 

Not  another  word  until  you  hear  his  story;  then  you  will 
regret  even  the  few  you  have  uttered. 

CLEON 

Are  you  quite  sure  that  it  was  he  ?  There  have  been  frauds 
— substitutions.  (  CLEA  turns  from  him  in  indignation. )  Don't 
be  vexed.  I  am  charmed  to  welcome  Charmides,  but  you  will 
admit  that  the  situation  is  an  awkward  one.  It's  all  very  well 
for  you,  but  it  is  hard  on  me.  Lovers  are  always  selfish.  I 
forfeit  Gryllus's  influence,  perhaps  even  his  friendship — 

AMPHIONE 

You  will  lose  that  of  Charmides  also  when  he  learns  that 
you  forced  Clea  to  remarry.  You  should  not  reproach  us  with 
selfishness ;  for  your  sake  we  have  tried  to  conceal  it  from  him. 

CLEON 

That  was  considerate,  chuck.  Frankly,  I  didn't  expect  it  of 
either  of  you.  Now  I  begin  to  understand  the  nature  of  the 

251 


MASQUES  OF  CUPID 

suggestions  which  you  urged  upon  me  so  strenuously.  If  you 
had  only  begun  your  story  at  the  right  end  I  should  have  been 
a  more  intelligent  auditor.  I'll  follow  your  instructions.  If 
we  only  had  more  time!  Keep  Charmides  away  for  a  little 
while,  and  I'll  answer  for  everything.  Now  for  the  messages. 

(Exit  CLEON,  hastily,  on  right) 

AMPHIONE 

Now,  Clea,  quick,  my  veil !  (  CLEA  fastens  the  gauze  scarf 
on  AMPHIONE'S  hair. )  Battaros !  ( Clapping  her  hands. )  Bat- 
taros !  Why  doesn't  he  come  ?  (Enter  BATTAROS. )  Battaros, 
be  as  slow  as  you  can  in  dressing  your  master,  and  when  he  is 
quite  ready  break  a  jar  of  unguent  on  his  himation, — nard  spots 
badly, — and  don't  find  him  another  mantle  too  quickly.  Tell 
him  how  old  Cerdon  brought  the  sandals  home  only  last  year 
which  were  ordered  before  the  fleet  sailed;  suggest  sending  to 
Sporgilus's  shop  for  a  barber ;  keep  him  occupied  a  few  minutes. 
You  understand? 

(BATTAROS  nods  and  goes  out) 

CLEA 

Amphione,  I  can't  consent  to  this  deception.  It  breaks  my 
heart  to  lie  to  him. 

AMPHIONE 

You  would  rather  break  his.  What  barbarous  probity !  It 
is  your  duty  to  save  him  pain.  Think  of  what  he  has  already 
suffered. 

252 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

CLEA 

I  do;  indeed,  I  do. 

AMPHIONE 

Then  be  quiet,  and  let  father  and  me  perjure  ourselves  in 
peace.  How  do  I  look? 

CLEA 

Like  a  little  girl  with  her  mother's  veil  on. 

AMPHIONE 

I  am  in  truth  a  naive  little  girl  to  expect  a  compliment  from 
a  member  of  my  own  family. 

Enter  GRYLLUS  from  right 

GRYLLUS 
Is  it  true?     Has  Charmides  returned?     Speak! 

CLEA 
My  husband  is  here. 

GRYLLUS 

Then  this  is  no  place  for  your  lover.  I  will  not  remain  to 
blight  your  joy.  Farewell,  Clea;  in  your  felicity  you  have  the 
measure  of  my  misery. 

CLEA 

Stay,  Gryllus ;  stay  and  be  an  honored  guest  at  my  sister's 
wedding  feast. 

253 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

GRYLLUS 

No,  Clea,  no;  I  have  no  appetite.  The  spectacle  of  your 
bliss  would  poison  my  meat.  Farewell !  Be  happy  and  forget 
Gryllus,  who  would  willingly  have  made  you  so. 

CLEA 
Farewell.     Good  fortune  attend  you ! 

GRYLLUS 

May  the  blessed  immortals  hear  you !  But  what  is  left  for 
one  to  whom  Aphrodite  is  adverse? 

CLEA 
The  wild-olive  crown  at  Olympia. 

GRYLLUS  smiles,  sighs,  and  leaps  over  the  wall 
Enter  CHARMIDES 

AMPHIONE 
Already ! 

CHARMIDES,   going  to   CLEA 

At  last!  I  have  been  as  long  in  dressing  as  an  over-ripe 
coquette.  Everything  went  wrong,  and  Battaros  has  grown 
such  a  clumsy  fellow !  He  used  to  be  adroit,  but  to-day  he  did 
nothing  but  break  and  spill  things. 

254 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

AMPHIONE 

It  was  emotion,  Charmides. 

CLEA  shakes  her  linger  at  AMPHIONE 

AMPHIONE 

You  will  be  the  king  of  our  feast;  nobody  will  notice  the 
poor,  insignificant  bride,  and  you  will  have  to  give  us  a  public 
recital  of  your  adventures — 

CHARMIDES 

If  you  think  I'll  dim  your  splendor,  let  me  sup  in  private 
with  Clea.  I  ask  nothing  better. 

AMPHIONE 

How  unselfish  of  you!  No,  we  count  on  your  story,  and 
have  dismissed  a  juggler  and  a  pair  of  dancers  in  consequence. 
Odysseus  will  have  a  clear  course. 

CHARMIDES 

Who  will  want  to  hear  poor  Odysseus,  when  he  can  look 
at  Nausicaa? 

CLEA 

Remember,  Charmides,  you  have  not  even  told  us  how  you 
found  your  way  here.  We,  too,  shall  be  questioned. 

255 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

AMPHIONE 

He  hasn't  told  you?     What  were  you  talking  of  all  that 
time  ? 

CLEA 
You  will  know  when  you  have  been  a  wife  a  week. 

CHAR  HIDES 

If  I  am  to  recount  my  Odyssey  later,  spare  me  now.     Tell 
me,  in  your  turn,  why  is  our  wall  so  battered  ? 

AMPHIONE  and  CLEA  laugh 

It  made  my  heart  sink.     I  feared  that  some  misfortune  had 
befallen  your  father's  house. 


CLEA 

It's  a  question  of  principle  with  father.  You  will  have  the 
wall  mended,  my  love,  and  set  a  votive  tablet  in  the  gap  there. 
Here's  father. 


Enter  CLEON,  CRITIAS,  and  LYSIS  in  white,  with  garlands 
on  their  heads 


LYSIS  and  CRITIAS  greet  CHARMIDES.     AMPHIONE  and 

LYSIS  salute  each  other  joyously 

256 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

CLEON,  embracing  CHARMIDES 

Rejoice,  my  son!  The  girls  have  told  me  all — no,  now  I 
think  of  it,  I  don't  even  know  how  you  got  here.  I  shall  be 
assailed  with  questions.  Give  me  a  hint  before  the  guests  ar 
rive.  Begin  at  the  end. 


CHARMIDES 

It  will  take  too  long.  Let  it  suffice  you  to  know  how  I 
escaped  from  the  Syracusan  miller.  My  fellow  drudge,  hav 
ing  no  such  reason  for  living  as  I  possessed,  died,  overdone,  one 
evening.  His  poor  shell,  covered  with  a  rag  of  sacking,  was 
to  be  cast  out  with  the  other  husks  and  ashes  at  night.  I  laid 
it  on  my  straw  and  took  its  place.  A  blear-eyed  slave,  half 
blinded  by  the  smoke  from  the  ovens,  unknowing,  carted  me 
to  the  mounds  beyond  the  city  walls.  On  the  road  he  lost 
part  of  his  freight.  When,  a  month  later,  I  found  myself  in 
Catana  (I  will  not  linger  on  the  itinerary),  where  the  poor 
remnant  of  our  army  had  found  a  refuge,  I  fell  sick.  For 
weeks  I  lay  like  a  dead  man.  Later,  when  I  struggled  back  to 
life,  the  generosity  of  a  handful  of  my  old  soldiers,  who  had 
taken  service  with  the  Catanians,  sent  me  home  in  a  little  bark 
which,  favored  by  Athene,  escaped  the  pirates.  I'll  swear  that 
I  was  the  first  man  ashore. 


CLEON,  patting  CHARMIDES'S  shoulder 

Well  done,  my  son !     Why,  man,  how  thin  you  are !     Never 
mind,  you'll  soon  be  sleek  again.     We'll  stuff  you  like  a  wres- 

257 


MASQUES    OF   CUPID 

tier.     ( To  CRITIAS.  )     You  can't  kill  these  boys.     Ah !     Youth 
—youth,  always  prized  too  late !    Call  no  man  unhappy  who  is 


CLEON,  CHARMIDES,  and  CRITIAS  talk  together.     LYSIS 
joins  them 

AMPHIONE  to  CLEA,  after  leaving  LYSIS,  with  whom  she 
has  been  chatting 

Sister,  don't  you  think  that  we  might  put  it  off  until  next 
week — or  to-morrow? 

CLEA 

Put  off  what? 

AMPHIONE 

My  wedding. 

CLEA 

Now  help  us,  Adrasteia !     What's  the  matter  ? 


AMPHIONE 

I  feel  limp;  hear  my  heart  thump,  Clea.     Marriage  is  very 
solemn ;  it  did  not  seem  so  near  until  just  now. 


CLEA 

My  dear,  that's  nothing;  those  are  common  tremors;  one 
never  enjoys  one's  own  wedding.     I  was  far  worse  than  you. 

258 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


AMPHIONE 

To  leave  you  all !  To  go  alone  to  that  strange  house !  Clea, 
if  Praxilla  felt  as  I  do,  I  should  say  that  she  was  afraid.  No, 
no,  no;  I  can't  be  married  to-day! 


CLEA,  quietly 

Very  well.  You  shall  stay  here.  I  will  explain  to  Lysis 
that  you  have  made  a  mistake,  and  on  reflection  you  have  dis 
covered  that  you  don't  care  for  him  enough  to  be  his  wife. 
You  can  start  this  evening  for  Megara  to  visit  your  Aunt 
Leucippe  until  father  is  pacified.  Let  me  undo  your  veil. 
(Sighs.)  Poor  Lysis! 

AMPHIONE 

Don't  touch  my  veil  yet.  You  think  Lysis  will  mind  very 
much? 

CLEA,  smiling 

Yes — for  a  while ;  but  he  is  young  and  proud,  and  his  hand 
some  neighbor,  the  rich  armorer's  only  daughter,  is  admirably 
fitted  to  console  him.  Don't  trouble  yourself.  I  think  he  will 
soon  be  resigned. 

AMPHIONE,  resolutely 

She  is  quite  incapable  of  making  him  happy.  Pin  on  that 
veil  firmly,  please.  I  may  shake,  but  I  am  going  to  keep  my 
word. 

259 


MASQUES   OF  CUPID 

CLEA,  very  gravely 

Yes,  dear,  you  will;  for  /  can  endure  this  deception  no 
longer,  and  I  must  confess  it  to  Charmides.  Hush!  not 
one  word;  I  cannot  do  otherwise.  (She  goes  to  the  group 
of  men.)  Charmides,  we  have  deceived  you.  I  am  a  faith 
less  wife.  A  passive  tool  in  others'  hands,  still  believing  that 
you  were  alive,  still  doting  on  you,  I  yielded  to  incessant  im 
portunity,  and  this  wedding  day  was  to  have  been  mine — 
yes,  mine ! 

A  silence 

CHARMIDES 

I  thought  I  knew  what  agony  was.  Poor  fool !  I  never  felt 
it  till  now.  This  treachery  is  crueller  than  stripes — Clea  faith 
less.  But  that  is  such  a  new  thought ;  if  I  accept  it  I  uproot  all 
lesser  convictions.  With  that  conclusion  I  must  reconstruct 
my  theory  of  life.  Was  it  so  difficult — here  in  this  pleasant 
place,  with  flowers  and  blessed  sunshine,  and  kind  faces  all 
about  you — to  be  constant?  If  I  had  only  known !  I  could  have 
died  so  easily.  (To  CLEON.)  I  thank  you,  Cleon,  for  your 
entertainment.  It  was  handsomely  done,  the  cheat  you  put 
upon  the  tattered  skeleton,  the  kill-joy  who  came  to  life  so 
inopportunely.  How  I  startled  you,  and  how  you  must  have 
hurried  and  wriggled !  How  admirably  you  drilled  your  house 
hold  to  feign — at  such  short  notice,  too!  The  kind  looks,  the 
hearty  greetings,  they  were  shams  also,  and  the  warm  hand 
clasps  were  no  less  fraudulent  ?  Liars,  liars,  all  of  you !  Cleon, 
dishonoring  your  white  beard ;  perjured  Amphione,  with  those 
clear  eyes;  and  Clea,  who  deceived  me  even  while  her  heart 

260 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 

beat  on  mine.  It  hurts  too  much !  The  comedy  is  over  now, 
and  the  spectator,  having  duly  praised  the  actors  and  their 
piece,  may  take  his  leave.  Not  without  paying,  though;  I'll 
be  munificent.  (To  CLEON,  and  touching  CLEA'S  arm.)  Here's 
something  that  I  prized  more  than  my  own  soul;  I'll  leave  it 
with  you.  The  piece  is  false,  but  with  care  and  a  little  shuf 
fling  it  may  be  passed  again.  (CHARMIDES  turns  to  go.) 

CLEA,  detaining  him 

I  cannot  be  generous,  but  I  would  be  just.  I  have  a  treasure 
of  yours  in  my  keeping  which  I  have  forfeited ;  I  would  make 
restitution.  Pray  wait  for  me;  I'll  fetch  it. 

(Exit  CLEA  on  right) 

CHARMIDES 

I  cannot  stay. 

CLEON,  approaching  CHARMIDES 

Suffering  has  warped  your  judgment.  Was  it  so  criminal 
for  me,  feeling  assured  that  you  were  no  more,  to  find  another 
husband  for  her? 

CRITIAS 

Indeed,  could  you  expect  a  young  woman  to  remain  a  widow 
in  the  flowering  time  of  life? 

261 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 


LYSIS,  putting  his  hand  on  CHARMIDES'S  shoulder 

If  Clea's  sister  cherishes  me  half  as  much  as  Clea  loves  you, 
I  shall  be  satisfied. 


AMPHIONE,  taking  CHARMIDES'S  hand 

Brother,  you  shall  not  go  till  you  have  heard  the  truth.  (To 
LYSIS  and  CLEON.)  You  are  too  cold.  If  I  had  learned  like 
you  to  speak,  to  plead,  to  make  even  the  worse  cause  appear 
the  better,  I  would  be  eloquent  now.  Clea  did  not  love  you, 
she  adored  you;  you  were  of  her — her  very  being;  call  her 
slaves,  and  they  will  testify  how  her  thoughts  never  strayed 
from  your  image.  (Calling.)  Praxilla!  Doris! 


CHARMIDES 

You  need  not  call  them.     I  will  take  your  word. 

LYSIS 

Doris  and  Battaros  met  every  ship  with  inquiries  for  you. 
In  this  marriage,  believe  me,  Clea  was  much  constrained. 

CLEON 

We  have  spent  two  great  talents  in  offering  rewards ;  in  en 
tertaining  tramps,  refugees,  deserters,  strangers  from  Sicily; 
in  searching  for  you,  in  fine. 

262 


IN   CLEON'S   GARDEN 


CRITIAS 

Clea  laid  siege  to  the  altars  of  the  gods.  You  will  find 
votive  gifts  for  you  in  every  temple.  Who  knows  ? — you  may 
owe  your  life  to  her  ceaseless  prayers. 


AMPHIONE 

The  very  trees  and  flowers  and  birds  are  living  proofs  of 
her  devotion  to  you.  Look  here,  and  here.  (Shozvs  him  his 
name  carved  on  the  tree  trunks.)  There's  Charmides,  spelled 
out  in  violets,  the  flowers  you  prefer.  (Leads  him  to  the  garden- 
bed.)  Here's  a  loquacious  witness  for  her.  (Unhooks  the 
parrot's  cage  and  sets  it  on  the  chair.)  Tell  us,  pretty,  pretty, 
pretty  birdie,  what  is  it  Clea  taught  you — say  it,  dear  Echo. 


CHARMIDES 

This  is  too  childish;  let  me  go. 


AMPHIONE,  on  the  verge  of  tears,  clinging  to  his  hand, 
and  kneeling  beside  the  cage 

Stay,  stay!  O  Echo,  don't  be  aggravating.  (She  fondles 
the  parrot  and  whispers  to  him.  ECHO  puts  his  head  on  one 
side  and  surveys  the  anxious  group  about  his  cage  cynically.) 
Call  Charmides!  Oh,  how  perverse!  If  we  would  have  him 
mute  he  would  tire  the  very  air  with  countless  repetitions  of 
your  name. 

263 


MASQUES   OF   CUPID 

ECHO,  coyly,  in  a  whisper,  while  they  all  bend  towards  him 

Charmides,  Charmides,  come  back  to  her  who  loves  you. 
(Then,  in  an  eldritch  shriek.)  Char — Charmides! 

The  auditors  hastily  retire  from  the  vicinity  of  the  cage 

CRITIAS 

An  eloquent  witness,  that.  The  whole  agora  could  have 
heard  his  deposition. 

Enter  CLEA,  zuith  the  small  CLEANTHES,  very  pink  and 
sleepy,  in  her  arms.    She  kneels  before  CHARMIDES 

You  have  judged  and  condemned  me.  I  can  make  no  de 
fence;  I  bow  to  your  decree  of  banishment  from  your  loved 
presence.  I  am  self-sentenced  to  lose  what  I  hold  only  less 
dear  than  you.  Take  your  son  with  you,  and  in  pity  to  me 
remove  him  quickly.  (SJie  turns  away  her  head  and  weeps.) 
My  punishment  is  more  than  I  can  bear. 

She  holds  out  the  child  to  CHARMIDES.  He  kneels  beside  her 
and  receives  CLEANTHES  from  her,  raises  him  to  his  lips  arid 
is  about  to  kiss  him,  but  instead  replaces  him  in  CLEA'S  arms 
and  embraces  them  both. 


CHARMIDES 

His  mother  first. 

Kisses  CLEA 
264 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  5O  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


JUN   11  1936 


LD  21-100m-7,'33 


.** 


I f607 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


